Grassboat Letters
by rawpotato
Summary: POST-Inheritance, so spoilers for that. Arya and Eragon swap letters, and maybe do a little more. T for safety... may go up...
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: _**_Hey everybody, like everyone else, I'm a little mad at the ending of Inheritance, because well, it sucked. We all know that, why the crap didn't CP realize it. Anyways, if you like this ide, let me know. I might keep it trucking._

_Love the Saga, hated Inheritance ~ RawPotato_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I don't own this. CP does._

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><p>"No. I will not stand for this." The Elf Lord's voice raised, bringing Arya from her stupor and back into the meeting that she was overseeing.<p>

"And why not? The tree is as much in my eye line as it is yours, I cannot see why your vision of beauty is more pressing that mine." Replied a haughty female elf that Arya knew was very passionate about the beauty in her eye line.

And while no elf placed their own thoughts on the beauty or appearance of any other elf in matters of personal appearance, the appearance of their forest was a matter important to all elves, and as queen, it was her job to mitigate such matters. But she was becoming increasingly frustrated with the simple matters that pervaded the politics of the elves. The problem with immortality, she deigned, was an eternity to hold grudges. It had been twenty-nine years since Fìrnen had hatched for her, and she longed to be free to do as dragon and Rider ought, flee free throughout Alagaseia, and protect the delicate peace that had yet to invade the whole land.

But more than that, Arya longed to see Eragon again. She knew, too, that Fìrnen longed to see Saphira. Despite his protestations that dragons didn't mate for life, she could sense a feeling of deep longing and sadness in her dragon for the mate he once had.

_Peace, little one, _his deep soothing voice crooned in her mind, _this is the last item on or schedule for today, then we are free to take our leave to the sky. You are their queen, it is only right that the other two-legged-pointy-ears seek your advice. Though technically it is my advice they should be seeking._

_Hush, you over grown lizard, _she responded fondly back to him in the private confines of their joined minds, _what would your advice be in this case?_

He wanted to give advice on the color and shape of leaves, let him give it.

She felt as the majestic green dragon spread his consciousness to the thirty elves gathered around them, and smiled as he spoke to them in what she knew to be a condescending voice. _Why change the leaves? They are green as I, am I not a wondrous sight to behold?_

Leave it to Fìrnen to play to his vanity. Yes, let the leaves stay green indeed.

Nods immediately followed his proclamation, and it was then that the complaining elf, Grale left, mumbling loud enough for them all to hear about vain dragons and blue leaves.

_I like blue... _Fìrnen hummed between their minds, and Arya agreed, she liked blue as well.

"If that is all." The question posed as a statement, she stood to leave the hall, and make her escape to the Crags of Telnair with her dragon.

No one stopped her as she strode from the room, all heads bowed as she moved quickly passed them, and into the open air receiving room where she quickly mounted Fìrnen saddle less, and they took to the sky so quickly Arya feared she may not be able to hold on. It was a glorious few seconds, the two of them revelling in the privacy of their minds and bodies, and a few more seconds before either of them spoke, just allowing their private moment to envelope them completely.

_It's been too long little one. _Fìrnen's deep voice soother her frayed nerves, and she had to agree. Far too long since she'd taken to the sky with her beloved dragon.

Over grown lizard that he was.

_You call me little one._ She remarked. It had occurred to her that his name for her was the same as Saphira's for Eragon. Though she had only heard the blue dragon call him that once, it had stuck in her mind for a long time. The depth of affection Saphira had for the light-haired man, the gentle way of hr teasing, always left Arya in awe of the relationship that they shared. Now that she had her own dragon, she knew, but still, the name he chose was odd. For never had she heard Glaedr refer to Oromis in this fashion.

_What of it? _He replied, tipping his wings so that he angled himself down to the Crags and in from of Oromis' old house, where an elf still came and cleaned the rooms.

_It's what Saphira calls Eragon. _

_Is it wrong that I should call you that? You are much smaller than me. Also very easily squished, I worry sometimes._

Arya smiled at his teasing, perhaps he'd gotten more from Saphira than his name for her.

_Hmm, well dragon of mine, did you get it from her?_ She was curious. Not that she minded. She knew that Fìrnen greatly missed his mate, and truth be told she missed the blue dragon as well as her Rider, technically her master in all forms, as she was a Rider too, and he the lead Rider.

_Saphira once told me a story, I'll not share it with you as it would embarrass her Rider terribly, but she loves him, as I love you, and I call you little one because more than myself, you are the most important thing in my life and heart, partner of my heart and mind. I call you little one, because I love you._

Arya had to hold back tears because in addition to the words, she could feel his love for her flow freely through their joined minds. She poured all of her affection for him back, and felt him hum in response, his ribs and lungs vibrating her as the drifted in for a landing.

_Besides, you're smaller than Saphira's-Rider-Eragon. So between the four of us, you are by far the smallest._

Arya smiled at the teasing and lightly swatted her dragon's side as he dropped out of the air with the smoothness of a seasoned professional. Upon the Crags', they simply left their minds open to each other, communicating through emotions and memories, not bothering to trifle with words.

Eventually, as the sun was setting, Arya found her way to leaning against Fìrnen, his massive green body stretched out on the grass like a cat, allowing a good spot for her shoulders to lean back.

_Little one, a small grass boat approaches. Should I incinerate it?_

_What do you mean?_

In response, Fìrnen showed her his memory of the boat, and she immediately recognized it as one of the grass boats that she had made, and allowed the boat to float towards her, gently telling Fìrnen that his smoking nostrils were not needed in this case.

Any dark magic would have been stopped the boat at the gates to their forest, so she wasn't worried.

As soon as the boat was in reach, Arya noticed how poor its construction was, there was a square of parchment tucked between the masts that was falling out, so she went to retrieve the note, and as she did the grass immediately feel apart, leaving her with a square of parchment and a hand full of dead grass that she allowed to drop to the ground between her crossed legs.

_What is it little one? _Fìrnen's head came around to look at her, and settled on the ground one massive green eye looking at her.

"It appears to be a note." She replied out loud, unfolding the parchment, her traitorous heart speeding as she recognized the untidy scrawl of Eragon.

The flowing script of the ancient language, which normally looked so beautiful in any elf hand, looked stubby and messy in his. Though she could still make the words and characters out, the writing was almost an extension of Eragon himself, from the way it was fluid, yet strong and there. Though it wasn't perfect, it got the job done, and it was a while before she realised that she could read the note, and it wasn't until Fìrnen's question of its contents did she star to read.

_Arya Shadeslayer_

_What is the correct way to greet the Elf Queen in a letter? Of course we both know the correct response in person, but in a letter, I'm not sure. In fact I consulted the Eldunarí, and not one of them knew the answer. However, assuming this poorly constructed boat doesn't crumble halfway across Alagesia, I assume you'll tell me the correct way. This letter comes to you after that first boat you sent out found its way to me in the new home of the Riders. We've yet to name our new home, though we've had four new students and three and twenty wild dragons, not to mention the nine and twenty years to name it, but I digress. Your boat found its way to me, prompting me to write to you, though I wish to write more, I'm not sure my boat could handle a longer letter. Should this reach you, and you write back, my next boat will be of sturdier construction, I will work on the skills in the mean time._

_Yours, Eragon, Vanquisher of Snails_

_Ps. Saphira requests that you pass her best to Fìrnen._

Stunned, Arya could do no more than laugh hysterically. It wasn't often that she was rendered helpless by laughter, but her mirth seemed to have the same affect on Fìrnen, and the two of them laughed for a very long while.

But it wasn't just mirth that Arya was feeling. It was pure, unadulterated joy. Eragon was alive, safe and well enough to write her a letter, though they hadn't been in contact for a very long time, and they hadn't seen each other since that fateful night twenty nine years ago when he left, and she left him as well, she knew that the time had done nothing but deepen her love for him. It may have taken thirty two years, but Arya knew without a doubt that she loved him. Could they be together, that was a different question entirely, but she knew that she loved him.

Abruptly she stood and rushed into Oromis-eldas house and grabbed some parchment and ink and a quill to set about writing a return letter to Eragon.

_Little one? _Fìrnen's deep voice brought her out of her single-mindness with patience and soothing, and an excitement that matched hers. She could feel his own joy have having been given Saphira's best.

_Yes, my dragon?_

_Thank Saphira and give her my best as well._


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: **Hey guys, thanks so much for all the reviews. I'mnot sure how much updating this story is going to get, but I'm in the first dregs of the idea, and there is a lot swirling around me head. Also finals are coming up, and I should be studying... but I'm not... Anyways... Thanks for all the reviews._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ dis-claim any ownership of the Inhritance Saga. CP owns it. CP also ruined the ending,_

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><p>"Again!" Eragon commanded the two young Riders who were currently sparring.<p>

With the addition of Urgals and Dwarfs, sparring between Riders was a more interesting process, but the dwarf was holding his own against the female urgal who was twice his size. Eragon watched as swords clashed and clanged, heard the jeers of the human and elf that were watching this match, waiting for their turn to duel.

It was an interesting feeling being called master, but one Eragon had known would eventually be his mantle, and so he did what he always did, gave one hundred percent of himself to the task of bringing up these new Riders, but he longed for his old life.

Not the battles, or the constant war, but the people. He and Saphira both knew what they had given up in this task of theirs, willingly yes, but that didn't stop the fact that more than anything, Eragon wished to be with those that he loved.

"Again!" He commanded once more to thinly veiled groans. His hand gripped Brisingr as he watched, learning how to defeat each and every one of them, so he could train them to be better. Nothing taught a student faster than a bruised body and an even more wounded ego, Eragon knew this from personal experience.

Going back to his musings, Eragon thought of Roran and Katrina. They spoke through enchanted mirrors weekly, but it was getting increasingly odd to watch as his cousins aged, and their children aged, and he stayed frustratingly the same. Not that he minded immortality; he would live for a thousand years and train the Riders, and hopefully face any problem brought forth by dark forces that for now lay dormant throughout Alagaesia.

"Hargsrov, Gruik is four feet shorter than you, you should be able to best him easily." Eragon knew the jibe was low for the dwarf, considering that Gruik was a member of his own clan, but he wasn't here to coddle the Riders, he was here to train them to be warriors.

All four feet of them.

"Enough." He called to the sparring field as he felt Saphira near enough to enter his mind. Smiling at the contact he sent her a visual for where they were, and it wasn't long until he saw five glittering dragons rising over the horizon. Eragon was filled with warmth as he saw the smiles on the other Riders faces as their dragons came near, and he knew that he was no longer alone. He had Arya, for a brief moment, but until these four new Riders came, shockingly at the same time, that he knew he was no longer the only hope for the Dragon Riders.

_Little one, _Saphira crooned in his mind, and he walked over to her, leaning against her massive shoulder and looking at his four students.

Hargsrov, a massive female Urgal, had a beautifully yellow dragon, whose name was Nineard. Nineard was not the same color as Glader, who was more of a gold than yellow, but he was a fierce dragon, and almost as bright as the early morning sun.

Gruik, the dwarf who was his clan mate, was a fierce warrior, and his dragon Hhagmhos, was a startlingly white dragon. His eyes, which Eragon still found slightly disconcerting, were a violent shade of red, and it gave Hhagmhos the look of a lizard constantly about to strike, though Eragon knew that he was the gentlest of all the new dragons, which was a compliment and not a put down.

Frain, a pale elf who was the quietest being Eragon had ever come across, was paired with a beautiful orange female dragon named Xanier. When she and Nineard flew together, both he and Saphira could only think of an out of control fire.

And finally there was Derrick, a human boy of 16, who made Eragon wonder if he was that insolent at 16. He was sure that if Brom could answer, the answer would be yes. Also Glader had weighed his opinion on the matter while he and Eragon were having one of their lessons, that yes, he was indeed that insolent. Derrick's dragon, a fierce male by the name Trotski, was just as wild as Derrick, but the two seemed to be the most composed on the battlefield, and instead of sleeping in a bed like the rest, Derrick always slept between Trotski's front legs and under the dragons neck.

The five of them made a fearsome force, and he was impressed with their might, even if they were young and continued to bicker between themselves when on their home. Eragon and the dragons watched as Frain and Derrick had their sparring match, and kept watching until both were drenched with sweat, and the battle came to a stalemate due to exhaustion rather than the skill which had brought them to that point.

"I want all of you to work on your compendiums of the ancient language, also your writing and reading for the next two hours, then we will meet in the grand hall to eat, after which the night is yours." Eragon looked at each of his pupils, and watched as the bowed and all relied "Yes Eragon-elda."

The dragons too, bowed to Saphira and then they departed, leaving Eragon on the sparring field. Instead of retiring to their home, by mutual agreement, Eragon climbed up onto Saphira's back, and they flew to a cliff that bordered the ocean, and had a spectacular view from all vistas of mountains and the ocean to the east.

_Little one, the day has been long._ Saphira hummed between their mental link, settling on the grass, her wing wrapping protectively around him, surrounding him in warmth and her love.

_Indeed it has. I supposed that you're tired, from all that flying, and training and stuff. I mean... you are almost thirty two years old... by the gods Saphira, you're ancient! _Eragon chuckled to himself, allowing his laughter to flow between them. Her nostrils flared and smoked in response, but her voice as she answered him was filled with laughter.

_If I'm ancient, then you with your forty seven years, by all accounts should be dead. Besides, a dragon isn't old until they feel old, and I feel as healthy and strong as the day I hatched._

Eragon laugh again, and smiled. Indeed. He was forty seven. If Saphira hadn't hatched for him, he'd be an old man by now, gray haired and possibly with children, or even grand children. He wouldn't trade his life with Saphira for anything, but watching Roran grow and have grandchildren at his age of 50, made Eragon long for the life that his cousin has. A wife, a family, children of his own.

_If I remember correctly, the day you hatched was not one of your best. You were this small... awkward... flightless... thing. I'm not even sure I knew you were a dragon._

_Careful Eragon. I may have been smaller than you then, but now you're no more than a small kitten to me. I'm sure you'd be rather tasty, too._

Eragon laughed out loud then, rolling on the grass beside Saphira, flowing all the love he had for her through their mental link, and warming when she reciprocated.

They were still laughing when Eragon noticed that a grass boat was floating towards him, the ship floating towards him on the windless day. His heart instantly swelled with excitement, and he tripped over himself in his rush to get up from underneath Saphira.

_What is it little one, that has you so clumsy?_ Saphira asked, laughing at him as he stood and retrieved the boat.

_Arya has written back._

_Mmhmm... _Saphira hummed in his mind, he knew that she was anxious to hear about Fìrnen, and also Arya.

Pulling the note free of the masts, Eragon sighed with happiness as he settled against Saphira, preparing to read the note. _Should I read aloud for you Saphira?_

_If it's all right with you little one, the note is from Arya to you, if you're sure you'd like to share that with me right away._

_Of course Saphira, don't be silly._

_I'm a dragon. _She huffed, _I'm never silly._

The first thing Eragon noticed was that Arya's normally fluid writing was rushed. It wasn't that it was messy, no her script was as beautiful as it ever was, but a smudge here, a crossed out word there, and Eragon knew that she had rushed to write him back. For some reason, this pleased Eragon.

_Eragon_

_These letters, should they continue, will be between friends, and not a Queen and her subject, or a master and his student. You are my dearest friend Eragon, you can address me as such. Your boat was delightfully atrocious. It fell apart in my hand as soon as I pulled your note free, and unfortunately lies in ruin in front of Oromis-Elda's house. However, I wish to know about your name. "Vanquisher of Snails," is this a new thing from the Rider's home? I've never heard anyone refer to you as the Vanquisher of Snails, though it amuses me, you are the lead Rider, vanquishing snails cannot be your crowning achievement. I will admit to you Eragon, I wish Fìrnen and I could take our leave from Ellesmera for a journey to the Riders home, so that we may train with you and Saphira, who by all rights are our masters. Fìrnen wouldn't want me to say this, but I think he misses Saphira. I miss Saphira, I'm not sure why he should be embarrassed, but I can understand, missing the one you love is hard. Tell me about your new home Eragon. Tell me about the wild dragons, about the young Riders and their dragons, tell me everything Eragon, tell us everything so that we may feel a little bit closer to you and Saphira and others of our kind._

_Yours, Arya, Grassboat Master_

_Ps. Fìrnen wishes that you'd pass his best to Saphira. _

Warmth flooded Eragon as he read and reread the letter several times in his head. Though she hadn't come out and said it, Eragon felt that she was talking about him when she mentioned missing the one you loved. There had been a point when jealous and thoughts of Faolin would have taken root in his mind, but he could still feel the way her hand fit right in his, and he knew that it was he who she loved.

Or at least he had hoped. She had said in time, perhaps his time was now.

_Little one, two hours have passed, it is time for you to eat with the hatchlings. _Saphira spoke in his mind, and he stood, stretching his cramped muscles from being prone too long.

_You're right. Are you taken the dragons to see the wild ones, and hunt tonight?_

_I believe so, it is that time where we will discuss them laying eggs for the Riders. It's an odd tradition. Dragons asking dragons to give their eggs to be bonded with two-legged ones. _

_It's even more odd that the two-legged ones have to venture into a wild dragons nest to collect the eggs. As you said, I'd be rather tasty._

_Hush little one, those wild ones know that I could tear them tooth from claw should they hurt you. Tasty as you'd be._

_Thank you Saphira, for protecting me, and your sincere belief in my tastiness._

_It can't be helped. I love you._

_And I you, you great blue dragon._

As they conversed, they flew back towards the hall of the Riders and, Eragon dismounted so that Saphira could fly away with the dragons. Tucking Arya's letter safely against his heart, he motioned for the young Riders towards the table and they sat down to eat. He would write back tonight, and hopefully with good news that some wild dragons would consent to have their eggs be set aside to be bonded with Riders.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: **__So... here's chapter three. Not sure if I'll get one up tomorrow or not. I have a final tonight, and we'll see if I can pound one out in between studying. Once again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews, you guys rock._

_**Disclaimer: **__Okay, so I didn't totally hate Inheritance, which is owned by CP, but come one dude. 3000 pages and six years of my angsty life wasted, and not one bloody kiss? *SPOILER ALERT FOR THIS STORY* There'll totally be kissin' in this one. Yeah, totally dropped the 'g there._

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><p>The days passed in a blur, it seemed as if Arya, or Fìrnen, always had an eye on the horizon waiting for the grassboat letter from Eragon to arrive. Though she had to admit, the waiting wasn't as painful as it ought to be. Her meetings and agendas passed quickly and the nights, where she stayed conscious for as long as she could before passing into her waking dreams, in the hopes that the boat would find its way to her.<p>

While Fìrnen felt the same way, Arya silently, and privately, chided herself for acting like a lovesick teenager, the same thing she had once accused Eragon of being. But she couldn't help herself. She kept Eragon's first letter tucked within the folds of her tunic and reread the untidy scrawl as often as she was given the chance. Sometimes, when he wasn't guarding it, she felt the rumblings of Fìrnen's love for Saphira, and that love made her smile. She couldn't deny him the attractive qualities for Saphira, though she imagined how she loved Saphira and he loved Saphira were vastly different.

Even today, the day that she was in meetings for the majority of the risen sun, she was happy. Happy because it had been almost a week since she'd sent her letter off and Eragon's reply should be here any day, and even the dullness of this meeting couldn't repress her smile.

_Little one, stop thinking about the boy, and focus in on the meeting. If I'm not mistaken, the other pointy ears are curious as to your lack of attention._

Arya felt her ears burn, and she reluctantly pulled her attention from Eragon's flowing hair, and on to the matter at hand. There were elves, who once learned of the collection of Rider's swords, wanted to bring them to Ellesemera and have them here, where they belonged. The idea was preposterous to Arya, and she wondered why any elf could think such a thing.

"Why do you think this, Rael?" She asked, sitting straighter in her throne and looking at the older elf who was making the complaint.

"Those swords of elf origins, they should be here, in Ellesmera, with the elves." His haughty voice angered Arya, and she could feel Fìrnen chuckling behind her, and his laughter soother her. Just a little bit though.

"Someone fetch Rhunӧn. Rael, those swords were made for the Riders," at this point she stood and placed her hand on Tamerlien, smiling as Rael's already pale complexion, faded even more. "it is with the Riders that they belong."

"That's another thing, why aren't the Riders being trained here? Does Eragon not like Ellesmera, after we clothed him, fed him, trained him, and even let him be a part of our sacred blood-oath celebration?" Rael's voice became slightly hysterical, then Arya remembered that he was in line each time she had brought Saphira's egg to the forest to be touched by the elves, to see if one of them would be the next Rider. She also vaguely recalled that he had been one of the few naysayers at Eragon's becoming the next Rider.

_It's that lack of respect for the Dragon's choice that has not rendered him chosen. _Fìrnen commented in her ear, his deep voice not angry or frustrated with the elf as Arya was, he was simply stating a fact. _He's also especially funny looking for a pointy-ear-two-legged one._

Arya suppressed a chuckle, and decided not to answer until the sword maker was present. It was her hands that wrought the swords in question, it was she who should decide on their destination. It was this instance however, where she knew that Eragon had been right, her loyalties were skewed by her dragon and her station as Queen.

"What is this nonsense?" The elderly elf demanded as she stormed into the hall. "I don't like leaving my forge."

"Not even at the request of your Queen?"

_Or her fiercely, amazingly green dragon?_

"For them, maybe." She said with a grudging smile that Arya returned. Rhunӧn was several hundred years older than her, she was allowed to treat Arya as a child, even though she was the Queen, but they were also friends.

"What is your opinion on the swords?"

"What swords? Is that rascal Eragon pestering me to make another sword? I know there are new Riders, but I stand by my oath, I'll not mould another." The anger in her voice made Arya chuckle once, and several of the other elves gather look at her incredulously.

"You mean you haven't heard?" One of the gathered elves asked.

"Heard what?"

Arya held up her hand for silence, and the old elf turned to look at her, her weathered face looking stern as she waited for a response. "In Gallbatorix's castle, one of his many treasures was a store of Riders swords, all from your hand. Eragon has hundreds of them in the new Riders home."

"Oh good. Let him keep them, lest he pester me for another sword." With that she left, effectively ending the conversation, and offering her opinion on the matter.

"As Rhunӧn is the maker of the swords, it is her choice. Let the matter close."

Rael looked as if he wanted to argue further, but at that moment, a boat made of grass floated into the room capturing the attention of many elves, and a silence descending over their number.

Arya quickly leaped up and grabbed the boat, which was much larger, and of better construction than the last boat, and hurried back to her throne, he cheeks and ears burning with embarrassment as forty pairs of eyes followed her progress.

"Your highness..." one of the elves began, Fìrnen chuckling outright behind her, his nostrils smoking and is laughter rumbling the ground.

"It is a personal letter from a friend, and of a highly personal nature." She said, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, except her one hand maiden who was smiling, as she was the only other elf hat knew of her affections for Eragon, and the grassboat letters.

Then, unexpectedly, all of the elves bowed and left, leaving her in Taladori hall by herself, and Fìrnen's head which stuck through the hole in the wall so that she was on privacy.

_Little one?_ Fìrnen asked, excitement coursing through his mind. He was as excited as she was that the ones that they loved were writing to them, and had responded with such efficiency.

_Yes my dragon?_

_Read your letter quickly, and then let us retire to the skies so that you may share it with me. I wish to know how Saphira and her Rider Eragon fare._

_Yes, my love._

With shaking fingers Arya pulled the thick parchment square from the masts, and was pleasantly surprised to see that boa held together and floated off again.

_Arya, Grassboat Master_

_Vanquisher of Snails. It's an interesting story, perhaps. But the story is not the truth of the name. For so long I was someone`s student. Brom, then Oromis, then Glader, even you, but never was I anyone's teacher. It is odd to be called master. Though I do my best to teach, parts of me, the quiet parts that I keep hidden from my students, and even the elves with me, questions the fates that I am to lead the Riders back into their full power. Saphira says I'm a silly boy for worrying, that it is only natural for others to call us master, and respect us as teachers. As for the snails themselves, that's a story for another time. My new home, you ask, it's a magnificent place. The wild dragons are to the southeast, making a ring of mountains and valley their home, and a treacherous journey for each dedicated egg, but one worth taking every half year. My favourite spot overlooks the ocean, can see the mountains of the wild dragons, and is a beautiful spot for watching the sunrise. Saphira and I take our refuge there daily. In fact, the spot has special meaning as it's where both of your grassboats found me, and I now wait daily for your reply. In fact, there is more to this boat than the letter. If you speak my true name, a surprise will appear for you._

Arya quickly got up, and chased the boat to where it was slowly but surely making its way out of the hall and grabbed it before it could go further. After checking that no one was in listening distance and casting a quick spell so no one could listen to hr magically, she whispered the true name of Eragon, and felt the familiar shiver as it divulged his depth of love for her, and was quickly rewarded with a fairith that dropped slowly to the ground. She caught it easily and brought it forward to look at.

The stone was covered with the most beautiful sunrise that she had ever seen in her life. The sky was ablaze with the fire of the sun, the ocean below reflecting it perfectly on the waves that could only have been rolling in the memory that Eragon had created it from. In the distance on the right of the picture, what could only be dragons were circling in the sky and one of them was a shockingly beautiful blue that Arya knew it had to be Saphira.

Clinging to the gift, she rushed to Fìrnen, who flew them directly to the Crags of Telnair. Dismounting quickly, she rushed to finish her letter.

_I hope you like it. It was a spur of the moment idea that I had while Saphira went off with the dragons to hunt and convene with the wild ones. On that note, I do have a request. My words could never do this place justice, and you wanted to escape Ellesmera for a couple weeks, you could come visit. I know I ask much of you, but there is a good reason for this. In four weeks time, from the date you get this, the wild ones have asked that I come and collect not the customary one, but two eggs they have set aside for Riders. I could easily take both eggs, but each Rider must go on this journey at least once in their training with me. It won't be a complete training, but Saphira and I would love to have you and Fìrnen come with us. Plus, I imagine Saphira would more than likely enjoy having Fìrnen to herself for the four days it takes to journey from the wild one's nest and back, a trek the two-legs, as they call you and I, must take alone. Please, if you decide to come, let me know, the wild ones are not fond of surprise from the Riders, and they would appreciate knowing that you are coming. As would I. With that, I will end this letter, not with a goodbye, but a little bit of hope, from both Saphira and myself, may get to see you and Fìrnen in one months' time._

_Yours, Eragon, Not really used to being a master yet._

Arya knew instantly that she wanted to go. And more than wanted, she had to go. If not to receive some Rider training, to see Eragon. Her heart longed for to see him, the way his brown hair floated in the breeze to see his smile, and his eyes. But there was more than her wayward heart to consider.

_Fìrnen, would you go?_

_Yes. Selfishly of course, to see Saphira, but Saphira's-Rider-Eragon is right, we must partake in some dragon/Rider training. Though I feel sorry for any foe that comes against us, Eragon and Saphira are our masters._

_So... go?_

_Yes, little one. If we can._


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: **Thank you so much for all the reviews, my exam went well, thank you for asking. I'm going to try something different this chapter. I don't like asking for reviews, but I'm getting twice as many Story Alerts than reviews, and I would like to see a little more. I'm not asking for a silouqy about my awesomeness, just one or two sentences to let me know that you care. That you like what you're reading, or that hey, I suck and shouldn't quit my day job. Whatever, someting that let's me know that you care. I review almost every chapter I read, and I think that is the way FF is supposed to work. Obviously I'm not going tohold my story hostage,I hate when people do that, I'll keep doing my best to update as often as I can, and thank you guys for the support you've given me already._

_**Disclaimer: **CP owns Inheritance, I'm just borrowing it for a spell. Pun totally intended. _

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><p><em>"<em>Come on you lugs, there's four of you surly you can best me!" Eragon shouted to his four pupils, where they were currently battling him.

He knew it was unfair, the four of them against him, according to Blodgrham, it was a most egregious unfair fight, but Saphira added the final thought to the conversation, there were four of them, their defeat shouldn't be too bad.

But if Eragon were being honest, he was fighting a little harder than he ought to. He could sense Saphira's worry for his reckless abandon in this fight, and he could sense that her disappointment was as great as his. Arya and Fìrnen could not leave Ellesmera for the month long journey that Eragon had asked.

With and underhanded swing of Brisngr he took out the legs of Hargsrov, Frain and Derrick, only Gruik saw the move and was able to jump over his blade, and continued their sparring. He was taking his anger and hurt out on the young Riders, but he was too entrenched in his anger to decide to change his ways. This was a test for them, they ought to learn to fight, to work as a team, instead of always just trying to be the best.

"Work as a team. The reason Riders are the best is that they work well with others." Attacking with renewed vigour, the four students charged him, which was good because all he was thinking about was Arya, and how it was she hat he had worked the most with, and thoughts of Arya, just made him angrier.

Eragon fought in a rage of blindness and breathless swipes, jumps, rolls and taps to body parts that would have otherwise rendered the young ones dead had he not pulled back at the last second. He could have gone on all day in this fashion, working his anger out through the physical labour, but Saphira roared in both his mind and out loud, screaming _Enough!_ In his hear.

The five of them stopped, their dragons watching on as they all struggled to catch their breath, chests heaving with the efforts of their battle. Sighing Eragon rolled all of his muscles, letting lose the last dregs of his negative feelings and looking at his pupils. They looked ashamed that the four of them had not bested him, and he could tell by the way that they held their bodies that all four of them were badly bruised.

"The rest of the day is yours." He said, before turning and walking away, leaving four dumbfounded looks, and four happy dragons, as Saphira followed him at a slower pace as he stalked from the sparring field, and towards his home, instead of Grassboat Bluff, as he'd come to call it. Now the new name just irritated him, so he would retire in his home for the evening, and try and craft a letter to Arya that didn't convey the depths of his hurt that she would not be joining him.

_That was ridiculous Eragon. _Saphira chided him, _you could have injured those hatchlings, or worse, they could have injured you._

_I know,_ he replied, not at all repentant for his actions. _I just got carried away._

_Is it Fìrnen's-Rider-Arya?_

_Yes. I just... _He was let down. So desperately had he wanted her to come, that he had convinced himself it was just a matter of inviting her and she would be there, in his excitement, he had forgotten that she was Queen, and that her station as such would hinder any extended absence from Ellesmera.

_I know, little one, I know._

_I miss her, Saphira._

_I know Eragon. I love you, but you've loved her for nearly as long as we've been together, perhaps it's time you let her go._

_Could you so easily forget Fìrnen?_

_Dragons don't mate for life._

_You say that, but I can feel that you still love him, and wish him to be with you._

_Careful what you say Eragon, I still think you would be rather tasty._

At that Eragon laughed, her words never failing to make him feel better, it also helped that he could feel her affections for him, despite her assurances of his tastiness.

After washing the sweat from his body, and donning a new tunic, Eragon settled on his bed, and pondered what he would say to Arya. With his realization of her station, he found that he was no longer as hurt as he had been only hours before He was still hurt, yes, but he wasn't angry. She was Queen, it was her duty to her people that she should focus on. Not some vague notion that she and he would ever be together. She had said 'Some time', not 'yes,' perhaps Saphira was right, maybe it was time that he let her go.

Deciding to hold off on writing, he let himself drift into his waking dreams, and was almost completely settled when Saphira nudged his mind with hers, and he bolted upright, years of waking to danger still entrenched in his mind, his hand immediately found the dagger that he slept with.

"What!" He yelled.

_Calm down little one, another of your easily-burned-grassboats floats near._

Looking around he saw the boat floating near his shaving mirror and, he walked toward it slowly, afraid of what it might say. For surely the letter was from Arya, and he was afraid of more disappointment from her hand.

Perhaps he should let her go.

Loosening that thought from his mind, Eragon retrieved the boat, and sat on his bed for several minutes, staring at the square of folded parchment between its masts.

_Reading it is the only way to know._ Saphira prompted, and he could feel her wondering at another letter so soon. Though pessimism wasn't common for dragons, he could feel it in her. Though she loved Arya, Eragon could sense that she wasn't fond of the emotional turmoil that Eragon was in because of the elf Queen.

_Don't think of the bad, just read the letter._ Her words were in direct contrast with what she was feeling but with a deep breath Eragon pulled the letter free, and suppressed his happiness at seeing Arya's beautiful, and now familiar rushed hand.

_Eragon_

_I know that it's only been two days since my last letter, but I think I wrote back to you too hastily in my last. Firnen and I will be joining you and Saphira in three weeks time. I hope that my quick reply hasn't changed the plan for us to come, and that you can still inform the wild ones there will indeed be two of us. I am so looking forward to that experience with you, and retrieve the eggs to continue the tradition of the Riders. Eragon, I cannot begin to tell you the depth of my excitement to spend this time with you, and I know Fìrnen is excited to meet the wild ones, and spend time with Saphira. I must admit, the opportunity to leave Ellesmera is both daunting and exciting, for both of us. Neither of us has left the forest of Du Weldenvarden for some time, and while we will miss the forest, the prospect of seeing the Rider's home, and the actual sunrise you sent the fairth of. I will also admit that I'm afraid of what might happen in my absence, but I trust my court and those that I've left to rule in my absence, though I will also have to converse with them through the mirror daily, except for the four that we are on our journey, but I have given my hand maiden permission to scry me during those for days, so that she can report to my safety, but she will also be scrying you as well, I hope that is all right, so that if for some reason she cannot see me, she and I both know that no harm will befall me while I am with you. I hope that my reception can be expected one week before our trip to the wild ones, and I should leave one week after our journey ends, therefore I'd only be away from my duties as Queen for a month. I don't like to think to be gone that long, but Fìrnen and I both need this break from the pressures of the forest, and we can think of no better place to spend it than with the Riders and you and Saphira._

_We have also agreed, that this trip will be more than just a vacation; we are hoping that you and Saphira can train us the way that you train the young Riders. Though Fìrnen assures me that we are fierce warriors and our foes should fear our names, we would like to gain some knowledge from an accomplished Rider who knows what it is to fight in battle. We hope that you and Saphira will consent to train us for those two weeks. I hope that you will agree to be my teacher for that amount of time, and will also understand that I may argue with you as I would my friend, forgetting that you would be my master. _

_It is with the most expressive amount of joy that I say this next, see you soon Eragon._

_Yours, Arya hasty letter writer._

Eragon sighed, a smile stretching his cheeks, and causing the muscles in his face to become sore with the strength of his smile.

_Little one?_ Saphira asked quietly, for he had read his letter to himself, and hadn't shared with her, not wanting to cause her any extra grief. Instead of reading her the letter, or opening his mind to the memory of the words, he opened his emotional flow to her, and she was immediately as overcome with joy as he was. The ones they loved would be joining them, and nothing could hold back the flow of happiness that was causing a storm to rage inside him, that was lifting his heart.

_Truly, they are coming? _Her voice was hesitant, but joy emanated from the rest of her.

_Truly! Now, fly to the wild ones, inform them that two of us two-legged ones will be coming to collect the eggs._

_I will fly like the wind!_

With that she took off, shaking their home, leaving Eragon to scramble to his feet to collect Blodghram, and inform the rest of the elves that their Queen would be staying with them shortly, also to inform the other students that Arya and Fìrnen would be joining them for two weeks.

_Do you still think I should let her go?_ Eragon asked Saphira through their quickly dwindling link.

_No, little one, you never let the ones you love go._


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: **__Wow! You guys did so well with the review test, I was pleasantly surprised with the number of reviews I got, thank you so much! I appreciate each and every one of them. But onto sadder news. While I have the next three or hour chapters planned out, finals are coming up, and I do need to study, so this one a day thing may slip out to two or three. I'm sorry, but I want to go into medicine, and that requires a 3.3 GPA where I am, so studying is important. I'll do my best, but I'm not going to make any promises._

_**Disclaimer: **__I like CP, I really do. Despite my very mean letter to him about my hero not getting his girl. He also owns Inheritance, whereas I do not._

_**AN2: **__Sorry this is a short chapter... I'll post a longer one sometime. Maybe next time._

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><p>"Arya Drӧttning, are you sure this is a good idea?" Lord Dathedr posed the question to her for the sixth time in as many hours, and Arya was sure that she was about to throw her diadem at him. Not figuratively either.<p>

"Lord Dathedr." She started, controlling her tone and keeping her voice even, and her emotions in check. She may be Queen, but she was still subject to the odd rage blackout every now and then. But she would not throw anything, even a temper tantrum. The elvin counsel was weary of letting her and Fìrnen leave for such a long period of time, and she could understand why.

When the elves had a monarch, they generally lasted a very long time unless they were ousted out of power, and even those times were rarer still than the death of one. Queen Islanzadi had only died a short amount of time ago for the elves, and though few were still in mourning for their fallen Queen, the whole of the race still felt the sharp pain of loss. She could not fault their hesitation.

But she was a Rider. First and foremost Queen yes, but a Rider nonetheless, and she needed to train as one, even if it was so short a time as two weeks.

"Yes, I'm sure this is a good idea." She finally finished.

"Why now? Surely it can wait a few more months?" The Lord asked her. She knew that he would rule well in her stead, and that she could trust this man to protect her city and her people, and that he was a good mad through and through.

"If it could then I would put it off, but there is a Rider ritual happening that I am helping Eragon-elda with, and that is why I must leave soon." She continued about her private quarters, grabbing all that she thought she would need for her coming journey. Eragon had said that it should take no more than five days for Fìrnen to fly to them, considering how long they had travelled across the land, she was preparing both for a long and harsh journey, never having been farther east than Hedarth, and saying goodbye to Eragon.

Fìrnen too was preparing, he was off hunting so that they could leave as soon as the sun was fully risen. He was too far away for their minds to be connected, but she knew that he was happy to be going to see the Riders home. As happy as he was to be seeing Saphira, she knew that he was excited to see other dragons, and that he was happy too to be leaving the forest.

"What task is this?" The male elf asked her, leaning against the frame of her doorway, and watching her pack.

"I'm not sure that I'm at liberty to say Lord Dathedr, but you have my word that if given permission to divulge the nature of the task from Eragon, I will gladly share the full account on my return to Ellesmera."

That seemed to placate the elf, and she could feel the tension in the room lift just a little bit. Though the forest seemed to be riddled with it these days, on the eve of her departure, she knew that most elves did not approve of her leave. Though the counsel had accepted her proposal grudgingly, she knew that this was not the most popular move to be making. And while it was not soon to be forgotten, she was sure that a safe journey would be hard to argue with when she returned in one piece, a strong Rider, and probably a much happier woman.

"Thank you Arya Drottning."

Almost as soon as he said it, a small grassboat floated in the window, and Arya couldn't suppress the smile that leapt to her face. Retrieving the boat, and pulling he letter free, Arya waited to read the note, and instead let the boat float free around her room, closing the protective screen on the open window closed, in case Eragon had sent another gift with this boat.

"Is that how you two send your letters?" The Lord asked her, his voice quiet and questioning.

"That is a personal question Lord Dathedr, far too personal for you to be asking." She would not tell the man how every time she saw a grassboat her heart leapt into her throat. How even the thought of one was enough to elevate her heart rate, and nor would she tell anyone how her waking dreams had become over ridden wit wonderful visions and voyages on grassboats.

"Forgiveness your Majesty." He bowed, then left the room where she quickly pulled the screen of the door shut behind him, and cast a spell to lock it.

Settling on her bed, she pulled open the note and began to read, the smile never having left her face except when she chided Dathedr for asking such a personal question.

_Arya, Queen of the Grassboats_

_Luckily Saphira hadn't quite left for the wild ones, and she was able to convey that there will indeed be two two-legged ones, on this trip into their nest. And though Saphira assures me of my probable tastiness, she has threatened the wild ones with her and Fìrnen's wrath should either of us be sampled. Saphira is deeply excited to be seeing you and Fìrnen again, though technically, I doubt that either of us will be seeing much of our dragons during this visit. I play the sad card, but secretly, or not so secretly, I am happy for her. When I catch snippets of her dreams, they are dominated by a familiar green dragon. My students dragons are also very excited to meet Fìrnen, Trotski especially. He belongs to Derrick, the human, and while they are the oddest pair of beings I've ever come into contact with, and yes I am including Angela and Solemnbum, this purple dragon is excited. He speaks of nothing with Saphira and I except your pending arrival. To be honest, I think they are all also a little nervous. Understandably so. Frankly I am nervous as well. Have you changed? Have I changed? My true name is still the same, and though I suspect that it ought to change, for I feel different, it hasn't. Which, a tantalizing piece of information to talk about in person, the search for my true name is the story of my name Vanquisher of Snails. I shall tell you the story while we are hiking to the wild one's nest. We have a room set up for you, and some training planned as well, and a not so secret feast planned for you. Though technically it is a Rider tradition on the successful retrieval of the egg, the students have decided that it will be to honour you. I hope to see you soon Arya._

_Yours, Eragon,_

_ps. I've named that bluff from the fairth, Grassboat Bluff. I will take you there one day. Or two._

Arya sighed with happiness, and leaned her back against the wall, waiting for Fìrnen's return. She didn't have to wait long, it was only a couple minutes until his mind was speaking in hers, the familiar flow of love for him, running through her mind.

_Good hunting my dragon?_

_Very. _His reply was a little smug, and Arya couldn't help but smile more. _Three dear, and something I'm not sure of._

He showed the memory to Arya, and she wasn't sure of the creatures name either, but she just mentally shrugged, and let him continue to talk.

_You seem happy little one._

_I got another letter from Eragon._

His mind perked up, and though she could sense his hesitation to ask, she could also feel that he was curious as to Saphira's contribution to the letter.

_He says that she is excited to see you._ She could hear his roar of joy from far away, and knew that somewhere, some poor animal was now trembling with fear, but like Eragon, she couldn't begrudge her dragon his happiness.

_Have you and Eragon ever mated?_

_Fìrnen! _Her mined shouted, scandalized and her ears tips burning.

_You love him the way I love Saphira, perhaps even more deeply for a two-legged, it seemed a good question._ He wasn't as sorry as he was trying to sound.

_No. Eragon and I have never mated. _Each word was difficult to get out, even in her mind, the idea so ridiculously far way, and now something that she would never be able to get out of her head.

_Why not?_

_Seriously? You're going to keep asking?_

_Until you answer me, little one, yes._

_I am an elf, he was not, is not. That's not why. But for a long time I didn't love him as you love Saphira, and when I realized that I might love him, he was leaving._

_Why didn't you love him?_

_He was younger than I. Still is technically._

_Saphira is older than me, and it doesn't seem to be a problem. Also, if it was a problem before, why isn't now._

_I don't know Fìrnen. I see him differently. Before he was immature, and young, impossibly young to even consider liking. Now, though he is still young, I see him as a man._

_A man you love?_

_Yes. _

_Mating?_

_Fìrnen!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: **__Hey guys, thank you so much for the reviews. I love them so much. But from the reviews, I just want to address a few things. I want to apologize for the grammar/spelling errors. I know that they must be annoying, but I'm going to be straight with you guys. I hate my writing. No matter the positive reviews I get, I hate it. If I were to use a beta, these stories would never get published because I could never force myself to actually publish them afterwards. This is a gut check thing for me. It's all or nothing with the posting, and I assume you want all of them. On that note, if you want to edit and do whatever. Print them out and keep them forever, go ahead and have some fun. I am sorry though._

_Also, it's the week now, with actual exams, so I'm sorry if updating takes a while. You guys have a good week, and I'll see you soon._

_**Disclaimer: **__How many times I got to tell you: I don't want no brown bananas! Oh, and I don't own Inheritance. CP does. I'd say he rocks, but Inheritance's ending made me cry on the bus._

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><p>Waiting was difficult. For his entire life the few times that Eragon had had to wait were passed with action and tasks, and things to do. But now, when he was waiting with nothing to do but wait, and listen to his pupils conversation while they waited for Arya and Fìrnen to arrive.<p>

Blodghram and the other elves were preparing a lavish dinner for the six of them, and also doing their final preparations for the arrival of their Queen. Eragon knew that they were especially excited to be seeing her, and that all of the dragons were also super excited to see Fìrnen. While they had all visited the wild ones with Saphira, Eragon had learned that any new dragon was a novelty for the dragons.

"Master!" Frain called, and soon he was surrounded by all four of them, looking at him hopefully and excitedly, and he could sense questions churning between them.

"Yes," he asked, having only to look up at Hargsrov, and even then she stood only a few inches taller than him.

"You know the Queen yes, master?" That came from Gruik, his clan-mate, and nods of agreement for the question came from the other three. In his mind, he could hear the dragons asking Saphira questions about Fìrnen, and the love she held for him came through to him, but he could also tell that she was tempering it from them.

"Yes." He nodded, many memories flowing through his mind.

"What is she like?" This from Hargsrov, who was openly fascinated with both the elves in their home and Gruik, never having seen neither elves nor dwarves, and he could sense wonderment when she looked at him and wondered about his past.

"She's a fearsome warrior," he began, the multitude of battles fought with her running through his mind, the former runs of adrenaline pulsing through his mind. "Strong, and not just physically, but in all ways."

"Tell us of her name, Shadeslayer." Gruik asked.

"That's actually a funny story. You know that some call me Shadeslayer, and for a long time after she killed her shade, and we were together, messengers would come and when we're together and ask for Shadeslayer, neither of us knowing who was supposed to answer." Though technically she should have been called Shadeslayer after he'd killed Durza, but that was a nuance and she had let him keep the title to himself. Then they'd killed the second shade together, and people had called her Shadeslayer as well, it was a name that he valued sharing with her.

As he was telling them the story of the battle, he could hear the dragons get quieter, and move in closer to them, the entire group listening to his tale with rapt attention. Near the end of his retelling, he could heard a faint voice in his head, the deep rumblings of Fìrnen's mental voice as heard through Saphira. There was a musical quality about it that he had never heard from him.

_Little one, Fìrnen and Arya approach._

Eragon knew at once that she had spoken to the entire group as almost as one, eight pairs of eyes swivelled to the northwest, and all looked for the telltale glint of green that signified Fìrnen was close.

"Master, should we ride to her?" Frain posed the question.

"Yes, keep your minds guarded but be willing to submit to her. Dragons, same to you. Fìrnen and Queen Arya are much stronger than any of you."

Within seconds the four students were on their dragons, all prepared to take off, and all looking to him to allow him to lead them. As he made no move towards Saphira, they all looked at him, waiting for him to take off first.

"Master?" Derrick asked, Trotski violet eye turned to him.

"You four go on ahead, Saphira and I will wait here. Fly safe, all of you!"

With that, he watched the four great dragons take off, whoops of joy emanating from all their Riders. When they were all safely in the sky, the ground shook as Saphira took a several steps towards him, and lowered her head nudging his shoulder with her snout, which he reached up and held tightly to.

_Nervous? _She asked, her voice gentle and soothing in his mind.

_Yes. You?_

_Desperately._

It wasn't long until the five glittering dragons and their Riders came into view, and with every percussive beat of their massive wings buffeting the air around him and Saphira, he felt his heart rate quicken. Part of him resisted getting excited, the parts of him that didn't believe that she was actually coming, and it was that part that seemed to have the biggest hold on him.

He could feel Saphira's joy as Fìrnen's green could be seen in the air amongst the returning group, but he refused to use hers, perhaps in some sadistic attempt to further his suffering, but he wanted to see them with his own eyes after so long apart.

Eventually, Eragon could make out the green glittering from amongst the orange, yellow, white and purple of his pupils dragons, and the parts of him that denied their coming died instantly, suffering him to the overwhelming joy that was quickly over taking his soul.

_Go Saphira, _he told her, the need to fly with Fìrnen her most overpowering emotion.

_Without you?_

_Yes, go to him my love. _She poured her gratitude into him and took off, the force of her first few wing beats nearly knocking him over.

Within minutes, the six dragons were upon him and his joy for Arya was nearly overwhelmed by the sight of the six dragons and five of their Riders, hope for the Riders blossoming in his chest.

They all landed, and dismounted, dropping to the ground with the grace of Riders, and he had eyes only for Arya. The dragons were off gathered around Fìrnen, the males ruffling their scales, all trying to assert dominance over Fìrnen, who had to be almost double their size, if not more. He could sense both his and Saphira's amusement and their private conversation, blocked to all except he and Arya, though she was only an assumption, because he dared not looked at her for a few minutes.

All of the young Riders started the traditional elvin greeting, to which she responded with the same stoic poise that he had come to expect of her. As Gruik, introduced himself and started the traditional greeting, he took his first look at Arya. Her hair was a straight and raven hued as always, though it was a it longer than she had kept it during the wars. No tiara rested upon her head, a fact that he would ask about later, and she wore her customary leather outfit, with a flowing elvin cloak of the deepest green that matched Fìrnen's darker scales. At her hip was Tamerlein, and her hand rested on its pommel, as she learned the name of all of the other Riders.

Finally she was in front of him, looking him in the eye, green met brown and the world stopped for just a second. Eragon gleaned a lot about how the universe worked in that few seconds. First, dragons obviously didn't care that true love was reuniting –possibly- not one hundred yards from them. Second, teenagers, or their races equivalent of them, were uniquely curious as to the reuniting –possible- of true love. Third, no matter how long he lived, Arya would forever take his breath away.

Then she spoke first, "Atra esternί ono thelduin, Eragon-elda." Her wrist twisted over her sternum and he instantly replied, with his own hand gestures.

"Atra du evarinya ono vardya, Arya Drӧttning."

His students were stunned as much as he was that she had spoken first, and he was suddenly void of anything to say.

Luckily he was saved the embarrassment, by a tumultuous roar that came from the dragons as Fìrnen had pinned Nineard under his paw, and projected his voice to all, Riders and dragons alike, Hargsrov running towards her dragon with all the rage of a warrior urgal._ I may be new among you, but know this, I am bigger, stronger and better equipped at battle than you, hatchlings._

Eragon's ears burned with the power of Saphira's attraction, and he swore he saw a faint smirk pass over Arya's face that was immediately covered with her normal expressionless facade. All of the young Riders returned to their dragons as Fìrnen released the yellow dragon, who instantly backed up a few steps, and nuzzled Hargsrov face as she spoke to him.

"Gruik, Frain, Hargsrov and Derrick, you have the afternoon to yourselves, we will meet in the Riders hall for dinner an hour after the usual time." They all bowed, and went their separate ways, Hargsrov mounting Nineard, and flying off with him.

That left him alone with Arya and their dragons, who were both expressing a desire to fly and spend time alone.

"Fly safe Fìrnen and Saphira," Arya spoke aloud, undoing the straps of Fìrnen's saddlebags and patting him on the side, after which the two dragons flew off, longing and desiring coursing through the both of them until Eragon was cut out of both of their minds. For the better he was sure, as last time Eragon was sure he was about to die of embarrassment.

Once again Eragon was rendered speechless. He had worn his finest tunic, a light blue thing made by the elves to match Saphira, and some brown leather leggings and his well-worn and magically restored boots. Brisingr rested at his hip, Aren on his finger.

"Well met, Eragon." Arya started softly, her gaze never leaving his face, and he felt as if she were trying to read him.

"Well met, indeed Arya." He responded, thankful for her ability to remain cool in situations where he was drastically underequipped. Fifty years old and he was still mumbling like the hapless sixteen-year old who had blabbed his feelings for her. He was half afraid she would reject him once more.

"Shall I show you to your home?" He asked.

"I would like that." She responded. He quickly picked up the saddlebags, ensuring to leave one for Arya, lest she get the wrong idea.

"Thank you for having us Eragon, I'm sure it is an imposition to have quests, and one a dragon no less, for such a period of time. We are truly grateful to your hospitality." Her voice still had an undeniable affect on him, and he knew that he was going to have to steel himself for the coming weeks if he was going to come out of this unscathed. Letters aside, he didn't want to rush things with Arya, and his impropriety was known to cause drifts between them.

"It is truly my pleasure. Though I have a feeling your parting may be of greater sadness to Fìrnen and Saphira." He looked up, and was able to see the two dragons flying lazily together, a few of the wild ones coming to inspect the newest arrival to their home.

"Perhaps." She left the one word hang between them as she followed his gaze up, and a touch of a smile crossed her features, drawing one from Eragon. His mind was reeling with the possibilities of her meaning, but his musing hadn't gone far when she spoke again.

"How many times did you get the 'dragon's don't mate for life,' line?"

He laughed loudly, and smiled, "Many, many times. I don't think I've heard a sentence of words more in my life."

"Nor I, and I have lived much longer than you."

"I'm happy for them, though. To finally be together again. Saphira has been nothing but excited for the past three weeks, and I must say, I'm glad you have finally arrived." There was more that he could say, but refrained for fear of once again, moving too fast.

"This place is beautiful Eragon."

"Yes it is. Wait until you see Grassboat Bluff. The journey by foot is much too long, we would miss dinner, but I will take you there, I promise."

"I will hold you to your word."

In the short span of their conversation, they had reached the small forest that reached from the coastline into the surrounding desert, and the home of the Riders and their dragons. The Rider's hall was not a mile away in the surrounding mountain, which was also home to the eldunari and unhatched eggs, also the store of Rider's swords and a fortune worth of gems excavated from the mining of the mountain, which he would show Arya when they brought some wild eggs to the wild ones on their trek to retrieve the eggs.

"Arya Drӧttning!" Blodghram shouted, as he and the other nine elves came and greeted her. He knew his time with her was up for now, and he couldn't begrudge the smile she had for the other elves that were her friends and family. Nor could he fault them for wanting to greet and converse with their Queen to hear news of their former home.

He took one last look at her, and she smiled softly at him and mouthed the word 'later?' at him, and he nodded, going off to his home, to wait for dinner. He had time alone with Arya coming up soon, so for now he would settle with the happiness of having her near again.


	7. Chapter 7

_**AN: **__Sorry about the long wait guys. I didn't forget about you. Or this story, I just had two exams in three days and lots of studying to do. FYI, totally rocked my anthro final. BOOM! Anyways. I hope to get one more out tomorrow, but then we'll see what happens. I have three exams next week and then I'm going on a trip to NY for Christmas break. I can probably do the one a-days there because I'm not a tourist and, I have six hours of flight time and a two hour layover. So... lots of writing time. Or Harry Potter reading time. Anyways... bye._

_**Disclaimer: **__I disclaim ownership of Inheritance, that distinction belongs to CP, the romance killer. _

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><p>Arya was settling into her new home, a sparse room furnished with a bed, a desk and a wash closet, and a large bowl shaped indention in the floor, where she assumed that was a resting place for Fìrnen. The house was almost an exact replica of the Rider's house in Ellesmera, and suddenly she felt very at home. It wasn't just the tree house; it was the accumulation of many things. Firstly, the young Riders though most of them had been riders for nigh on ten years, they were all very young in her eyes, and she could see it in the way they behaved. Secondly was Fìrnen's joy to finally be with Saphira again, and the chance to stretch his wings. His joy was palpable as the four dragons came into view, and though it didn't compare to his reaction at seeing Saphira again, she knew he was happy to be with others like him.<p>

Thirdly, and the most important factor in all of this making her feel at home and welcome, was the gaze of Eragon's beautiful brown eyes. No elf had eyes the same color and expressive nature of his, and she loved looking into them. But it was simply his presence that soother her frayed and worried nerves. She was glad to see him, no doubt, but just walking beside him, as she had done numerous times before, felt right.

Even as he stubbornly carried her bags, which caused warmth to spread within her chest, and the way that he had left one for her, his acknowledgement of her own strength and ability was another of his facets that she loved.

And she did love him, but she would have to guard her heart around him. She still had duties to see to in Ellesmera and recklessly allowing herself to succumb to her feelings and desires for him would only lead to heart ache once more. It had nearly destroyed her to let him go, which is why she had asked Fìrnen to pick her up from the bow of the boat. Many times she contemplated turning and following him wherever he went, but she continued home. Tears flowing freely from her eyes as she tried to compose herself before she returned to the forests of her home.

This time she would remain strong, and not do anything foolish. Like act on her desires to be with him, to be held by him, to kiss his full lips –_No. _She commanded herself, stopping the inevitable flow of her thoughts, something she's had to do many times over the last three decades.

"Be calm Arya." She whispered to herself, unpacking the saddlebags, and softly removing a wooden box that held a gift for Eragon and all of the other Riders. She had already delivered the letters and tokens from the elves for the ones that had left them to help begin the new Riders, and there had been many hard faces as packages were passed to each of the nine elves in question. But the gift for the Riders was from Rhunӧn, and the one from Eragon was a creation by her own hand, and she would give it to him as such.

After securing the gifts in her room, Arya set about to organize and unpack the rest of her belongings. Within minutes, there was a soft consciousness pressing at her mind, and instantly her guard went up, protecting herself from attack. The mind pressing itself upon her took a step back, and waited.

Lowering her guard, she reached back out once she realized that she wasn't under attack, wondering who it was that dared poke into her mind. Sighing as she recognized the mind.

_Eragon?_

_Sorry to intrude Arya, my house is next door, and I was wondering if you'd allow me to escort you to dinner in five minutes time?_

_I would appreciate that very much._

_Spectacular. I will meet you down stairs in five minutes._

_Until then, Eragon._

Smiling to herself, Arya quickly finished her unpacking, and slowly made her way down the winding staircase the wound itself in the trunk of the tree, and led back to the earth. Pausing before she stepped out into the early evening sunlight, she took one deep breath and composed herself. Though her heart was racing, and her palms were a little moist, Arya wrangled in her thoughts and emotions and stepped out to meet Eragon.

Her breath nearly hitched in her throat, but she mastered it as she took in his full appearance. He was still wearing the blue tunic that he'd had on earlier, the strings under his chin undone, showing of the top of his chest. The brown leggings he wore hugged the muscles of his legs, and he wore the same boots he had when they fought in the war. Brisingr hung on his hip, the blue scabbard the same color as Saphira's belly. He'd grown a couple inches since she'd last seen him, making him almost a full five inches taller than her and his chocolate brown hair was a bit longer and held a touch of a curl at his temples.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life, and it took all of her ability to speak to him in a normal voice. "Good evening Eragon."

"Good evening to you, Arya." He replied back, his spoken voice as soft as velvet, and Arya had to seriously control herself not to swoon. She couldn't recall it being this hard remaining composed and focused in front of him during the war. Then it had been simple, he was a boy and a Rider in love with her. Then, staying composed in front of him had been easy. He wasn't the man that he was right now, or rather she wasn't seeing him as the man that he was. His body had changed in small ways, but the youthful immortality of the elves and the dragons gift, left him looking as the 16 year old he had been during the blood-oath celebration, but it was his eyes that had changed the most.

Deep, soulful brown eyes, filled with his restless soul, the depth of his understanding and whenever he looked at her, a love so deep that she could get lost in it for days on end.

She loved his eyes.

"Have you heard from Fìrnen and Saphira?" She asked, missing her link with Fìrnen, but willing to overlook her discomfort in the pursuit of his happiness. That and she didn't really want to be privy to his feelings while he and Saphira were alone. She knew what would happen, and she didn't need to be around those deep feelings of arousal when she was near Eragon.

Or she might have to tell Fìrnen that she and Eragon had mated. _Dear god, woman, stop thinking thoughts like that!_

"Umm, no." She almost smiled as the tips of his ears blushed, and a thrill ran through her that he was as affected by Saphira's feelings as she was. She wondered if he still loved her that way. She would never ask, but she wondered. His eyes said that he did, but she was curious about the rest of him.

"Nor I. Are the dragons expected for dinner?"

"No, and I doubt we will see much of them for the next day." As he was talking, he started walking of the steep path that led to the base of the mountain that was home to the Riders hall. She could see the grand entrance, large enough for three very large dragons to enter side by side, cut in the side of the mountain. It was quite formidable seeing it from the ground, and knowing that she would have to walk. Of course had Fìrnen and Saphira been here, they would have flown up, but she would relish her time with Eragon, even if it meant a long walk.

"I have, however, asked that they be back by six in the morning. It's a little before the sunrise, but it will give us time to make it to Grassboat Bluff, if you're willing."

"I am." She responded, easily walking by his side as the trees of the forest thinned out, and gave rise to the steep slope of the mountain. Looking up, she saw the path as it zig-zagged across the mountain leaving a longer, but much less steep path to the opening of the hall, which was about a third of the way up the mountain. From this spot, the mountain looked bigger than the Beor mountains, but she knew that couldn't be true. Those mountains were huge, this mountain, was easily the biggest in this range, was part of a group of mountains that were slightly larger than the peaks of the Spine.

"Why haven't you named this place yet? Besides Grassboat Bluff." She inquired of him, as she followed him up the path.

"I can't seem to think of anything. Besides _Dras Shur'tugal Fell._" She could hear his own mocking, and knew that it was silly that he felt that way.

"The Dragon Riders Mountain City, is a fantastic name."

"Right. Just like calling a dragon an over-grown lizard is a good name." He laughed at himself, though she used the words for Fìrnen, it was in love, but any other dragon would be offended.

"I actually call Fìrnen an over-grown lizard daily. The name matches the city, and it's purpose, and there are days when Fìrnen is an over-grown lizard."

The laugh that he let loose filled the air around him, and she let loose a small smile because he couldn't see her.

"Saphira too." He admitted, and they continued on in silence up the path. Near the top, Hargsrov and Nineard flew over top of them into the hall which was now only a few hundred feet away. Shortly after, Frain and Xanierv flew in, quickly followed by Gruik and Hhagmhos who they stood back and let fly in before them.

It was a flurry of talking and activity as the nine elves that lived on the mountain city joined the five of them and the three dragons all settled down to wait at the table.

"So, Arya Drӧttning," Frain started, "How do you like our home?"

"I like it very much, but here, there is no need for formality, it's just Arya." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eragon smile, and she knew that he was happy here. Though she missed him terribly, his fondness for his pupils, and the way that they revered him.

"Yes ma'am." She smiled at his still overly formal response, and quickly the chatter picked up as they continued sitting.

Just then, there was a rustle of heavy wings as Derrick and Trotski flew into the hold, his great purple body heavy with exertion, Derrick too breathing heavily. The company got quiet and Arya watched with interest as Derrick stood before Eragon, bowing on one knee.

"You're late Derrick." Eragon said matter of factly, no trace of anger in his voice, but an odd smile on his face.

"Yes master." Derrick responded, bowing his head.

"Tomorrow, you spar Arya."

"Yes master." Derrick replied once more, quickly standing and moving to his seat at the other end of the table, waiting for something. Arya was surprised to see all thirteen other heads turn and look at Eragon, not one of them touching their plate, all waiting for something.

"Tonight we are joined by another of number, another Rider, Arya of the elves." The entire group clapped twice, then silence fell again. "Her dragon, Fìrnen could not be with us tonight as he is off with Saphira, the two of them mates," at that she could see his ears redden again and she smiled in the waning sunlight, werelights flickering to life around the cavern.

"So the missing of our number is just one." He raised his goblet, and Arya quickly followed suit, holding the wine aloft and looking at Eragon, wondering about this odd custom, but impressed with the tone of command in voice, and the respect that the young Riders and the elves seemed to give him. "To Thorn and Murtagh."

Arya smiled and repeated the salutation and smiled as she drank from her goblet and the party started eating.

Leaning close to Eragon, as he leaned in towards her she whispered in his ear as the chatter of the table took up again. "Do you do that every night?"

"No," he shook his head, and she started another question, placing her hand on his arm, tingles running through her body at the contact.

"Did you toast to me?" She wondered, a new sense of Eragon seeping in. He cared deeply about the dragon Riders, and was terribly sad that his brother wasn't with them.

"Every night."


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: **I am deeply, deeply sorry for the delay. I had a test, I worked, I studied and I slept... for a really long time. I'm so sorry. Anyways... Here you go. I do have one thing to say, while I have respect for constructive criticism, and I appreciate it, I do have to address one thing. The basis of fanfiction is that it's written by fans. Therefore all characters are going to be out of character. It is inherent in this body of work. Also, when venturing into uncharted territory such as a romantic involvemeny between two characters who frustratingly didn't get together is not in the realm of characters. Thus, this entire story is out of character. My purpose in this is to develop the characterspast what CP did and bring them together. In that, both Arya and Eragon have to grow and change, and see the positive in each other. If you feel that Eragon and Arya are OOC beyond what I'm doing, please give me pointers so I can ammend it in later chapters. And keep it coming._

**_Disclaimer: _**_Oh CP, how sad you make me. Please re-write the ending of Inheritance so we get a little smoochy-smooch._

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><p>Eragon woke, and instantly stretched his mind out looking for Saphira. Panic welled within him for a brief second before he realised that he needn't worry about her. Undoubtedly she was still off with Fìrnen, and he found himself smiling that his dragon was so happy. Though both of them rued being apart, Eragon knew that only the deepest of happiness would keep his beloved dragon away from him, and he could never, would never, begrudge her happiness.<p>

Especially when the happiness came at the hands –claws?- of another dragon. For so long she had feared being alone, the last of her kind, and now that she had Fìrnen, and the others and the wild ones, her blood ran hot again, and it was Fìrnen she chose, he would give her whatever she wanted.

Stretching all of his muscles, he pulled open the small screen window and looked outside at the darkness that enveloped the sky. To the east, the sky was lightening, the sun struggling to rise over the horizon, and within that lightening haze, two dots circling each other getting closer and closer. He knew that it was Saphira and Fìrnen making their way back to them, for the impending flight to Grassboat Bluff.

Quietly he shaved and washed, spending an unusual amount of time preparing his appearance, when he was startled by a sudden knock at his door.

"Come in." He called, walking over to his bureau to pull out a shirt. Before he got there though, Arya walked into his room, dressed down from her usual black leather and into a flowing tunic of green and yellow, and her hair was lightly pulled back behind her ears. She was beautiful, in short and he instantly pulled his tunic on to cover the blush that was spreading across his chest.

"Good morning Arya." He choked out, closing his bureau and moving to the chest of drawers where he kept Aren and Brisingr. Also a wooden box that he recently fashioned that contained the three letters that she had sent him. He'd enchanted the boats so that they floated in the boundaries of the hanging tree branches around his window, and he could see them floating around.

"Good morning Eragon. I'm sorry for being early, but I miss Fìrnen, and I hoped that we could get a walking head start until our dragons arrive." Her words were spoken in her normal voice, aloof and little detached, but Eragon could see the hope in her eyes, and he was powerless to refuse.

"Yes. I miss Saphira as well." He replied, starting down the spiral stairs, followed closely by Arya.

"Does it get easier? She asked, as they made their way to the small kitchen, where Eragon had basket of food prepared, for a sunrise breakfast on Grassboat Bluff.

"Does what?" He questioned back, Arya now walking beside him, the path through the thinning forest wide enough for them to walk side by side.

"The separation. Fìrnen and I have never been apart for this long, and I remember a few times when you left Saphira for long stretches. I was wondering if it gets any easier to be apart."

"Honestly? No." He responded shortly. But quickly followed when a brief flash of disappointment crossed her face, immediately replaced by her normally passive expression. "Being apart from someone you love is hard. Someone whose heart and mind is separate from yours, that's hard. Being apart from the one that shares everything you are, that's impossible to bear."

He wondered now if he was simply talking about him and Saphira, or two other people entirely.

"I can understand now why Riders had gone mad with the loss of their dragon. I feel as if I'm missing part of myself."

Eragon nodded. From the memories of the Eldunari's, and a closer examination of Glaedr's pain, with permission, he knew that it was that feeling of incompleteness that drove the madness. Because it wasn't madness that they were suffering, it was a separation from the emptiness that they felt. Though he couldn't understand the feelings they felt, Eragon knew that he could not go on after Saphira.

"To be honest, I'm all right with this separation. I know she is safe because I can feel it in my heart. I know that she is safe here in this place, I also know that she will return to me. She feels it is her duty to make fun of me." At that, Arya smiled and nodded.

"Anyways, the point is moot. The dragons, they approach."

"How do you know?" She asked, searching the sky.

"Stop." He commanded, gripping her shoulders, He felt awkward standing tis close to her in such an intimate fashion, but this was an important lesson for a Rider.

"Close your eyes, we have but a few short seconds." She complied instantly, and he did the same. "Close your mind to the world, and feel Fìrnen. Feel his heart beat on the wind. Feel the way the world is reaching for his presence."

A beat of silence followed, and Eragon felt her inhale, her mind becoming aware of the dragons' presence just before he heard both Saphira and Fìrnen call both of their names in his head.

_Eragon, Arya!_ A sense of relief flooded him as he embraced Saphira's mind with his, and she flowed love across their link and he sighed with happiness, hearing Saphira do the same.

_Little one. _Saphira said in his mind, and he simply smiled, and sent a picture of where they were to her, and waited breathlessly for the dragons to come.

"That's an important thing to feel, for when we go on our journey for the eggs." He said, following her eyes as the two dragons appeared on the horizon, getting bigger as they got closer.

"Yes Eragon-Elda."

Eragon smiled at the honorific, and removed his hands from her shoulders as the dragons landed beside them, massive wings creating percussive beats buffeting both he and Arya with wind.

It was hugs and words all around, as dragon and Riders reuniting, kind words from both set for the other, and a mass of confusion as words were short, and emotions and thoughts passed freely between the four of them. It was an odd experience for Eragon, being that close to Arya's mind, the strains of music there flowing and wrapping him up, and the deep resonant bass of Fìrnen's mind foreign music to his ears, but he could hear Saphira's infatuation with the sounds.

Eventually the quartet of them flew towards the bluff in constant connection, words in short supply as before, emotions, thoughts and memories flowing freely between the four of them. He noticed, though, that there were shared emotions that both Fìrnen and Saphira were keeping from both of them, and he was sure that he knew what those memories were and he was grateful for the reprieve of those memories.

Once was enough for those memories.

As they arrived at the bluff, Saphira and Fìrnen flew down to the ocean, their minds in contact the whole time leaving Arya and Eragon alone on the grassy knoll, the sun just starting to make its appearance over the ocean.

They settled in silence the basket of food between them, both picking silently and eating the fruit and vegetable spread with quiet and peace between them.

As the minutes passed, the food lay forgotten and moved to the side, and Saphira and Firnen returned, smelling slightly of fish, and the beautiful scents of salt water filling Eragon's nostrils. The sun rose steadily, and Eragon leaned back on his arms, his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Arya sat beside him, her body leaning slightly into him.

Eragon turned to the left to see how Arya was reacting to the beautiful splash of color across the horizon and the rolling waves of the water. Saphira and Fìrnen lay behind them, also watching the sunrise, heads close together, and bodies touching, still glistening with the water that clung to their scales.

Suddenly Arya turned to face him, the smile fading as she realised how close Eragon was. Eragon's heart picked up as if by unspoken agreement they bent closer together, foreheads resting against each other, sharing the same air as they both breathed in and out at the same time.

Eragon's thoughts raced along with his heart, wondering what was happening, what was going to happen, what had happened that brought them moment.

"Eragon?" Arya whispered, her breath sweet on his lips as he breathed in, his heart racing.

"Arya?" He answered back, her body turning to face him, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

They sat that way for Eragon wasn't sure how long, a slow dance of slight movements back and forth, racing hearts, mingled breath and a quiet essence as the sun rose steadily over the horizon filling the sky with its yellow warmth.

Deciding that this was his moment to gather his courage, he was about to lean in to kiss her, but stopped short, his courage failing him.

A dragon roared in the distance, and Arya and Eragon jumped apart from each other, Eragon almost slipping off the cliff, save for Arya's strong hand grasping his, pulling him back onto the bluff. Instantly they dropped hands, and he could feel both Fìrnen and Saphira's amusement as their Riders turned pink with blush.

The dragon roared again, and Eragon snapped his head to the left, recognizing the roar.

_Hhagmhos? _Saphira asked, her own concern reaching Eragon.

"Let's go." He shouted, his embarrassment forgotten as the roar sounded again, this time tinged with pain. Jumping onto Saphira's back as Arya did the same on Fìrnen.

"Prepare to fight." He shouted to Arya and Fìrnen, who both looked ready for a fight. "I'm not sure what's going on, but we must fly quickly if they are in danger."

Arya nodded at him, and he offered her a small smile, which she returned, as they took off without saddles. Eragon wasn't sure he could fight as efficiently without a saddle, but he knew a few spells that would allow him to stay close to Saphira with a modicum of energy loss. He brushed his mind against Arya's, and she let him in without much hassle and passed the spells to her and their purpose and she mentally nodded, and closed her mind off from him.

_Why didn't you kiss her Eragon? _Saphira asked in his mind, a touch of amusement still lining her mind, though she was preparing for the unknown scene they were going to.

_Really?_ He asked back, a blush tingeing his ears again.

_Why not? It's going to take at least two more minutes to get there, your spells are cast, your flaming sword is at your hip. What else have we to do, but fly and fight?_

_Valid point. I don't know. _He answered honestly.

_You may not get another chance._

_I know, but it's not that simple between Arya and I._

_It's the same for Fìrnen and I, you love each other yes?_

_I love her, I'm not sure where she stands._

_She'd be a fool not to love you._

_You're a little biased._

_Perhaps. But you're handsome enough for a two-legs._

_Thank you._

_You're welcome. You are a fierce hunter, you are strong and powerful, what more is there?_

_Love._

_Foolishness._

_Says the dragon who swooned at the sight of her mate._

_You swooned when you say Arya._

_Did she swoon when she saw me?_

_I don't know._

_Well I do. She didn't, you and Fìrnen both swooned, that is the difference, now postpone this subject, we draw near._

_Fine. But Fìrnen is also a fierce hunter. _She said the words with pride, and a sense of love and Eragon shook his head as they drew new the Riders hall where another pained roar tore the sky.

_Noted._


	9. Chapter 9

_**AN: **__I am so sorry to all of you. I have no excuse for why I haven't updated. I just never found the time to write. I'm sorry. I'll try and do better._

_**Disclaimer: **__I, like CP, am bad at updating. At least he's rich._

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><p>Arya could feel every beat of Fìrnen's wings as he flew his fastest, right on Saphira's tail as they rushed back to the dragons keep. She had refused to answer her dragons question about the almost kiss, and she would not talk about it at all. It had been a mistake, plain and simple. Sure, she may have wanted it in the moment, and sure parts of her may want it now, but it was a mistake. A mistake that couldn't happen again. That she would not let happen again.<p>

Pushing the memories of his sweet breath on her lips out of her mind she focused on following Eragon and the fight that could possibly be waiting. They were flying quickly without a saddle and though Arya could feel Eragon's spell holding her strong to Fìrnen's back, but she was still nervous. While they flew, Arya was building the walls around her mind when she felt Eragon's presence inside it, patiently waiting for entrance.

_Eragon? _She asked, wondering what he was saying.

_Let me lead. Prepare for a fight, but stay behind me. I can sense that one of the wild ones is at camp, and they have yet to meet you._

Arya sent him a mental nod, when he continued speaking.

_You and Fìrnen have no formal training and I don't want you guys getting hurt. If it comes down to it, jump in, but stay back, prepare for mental attacks, and if possible throw your mind out and speak my true name. The Eldunari will help us._

Arya nodded again, then sighed when the camp came into view.

_What of Fìrnen? _She asked, for she had yet to share Eragon's true name with her dragon, that secret even more precious to her than her bond with Fìrnen. It was the only secret that she had from him, for it was not her secret to share.

_You may share my name with him, but mention discretion, the younglings, both dragon and rider, know nothing of the Eldunari. I trust you Arya, and Saphira trusts Fìrnen, you have my permission._

With that, Eragon withdrew from her mind and she saw him pull Brisingr from its place at his side, and watched him prepare for a fight.

Quickly sharing the name and information with her dragon, Arya built the walls around her mind and flew into the fray, wondering what was awaiting them at the dragons keep.

*RAWRisdragonforILOVEYOU*

As they drew near the camp Eragon felt that the fight he had been anticipating was not what was awaiting him at the camp. On the ground, rolling around, Eragon could see Xanierv, her beautiful orange scales glinting in the sunlight, marred slightly by dirt, and the hornless back of a white wild one who claimed his name was Chester.

He put his sword away and urges Saphira faster wondering what on earth was going on.

Landing lightly, he dismounted quickly and saw Arya do the same behind him as he rushed to Frail, who had tears running down his cheeks, his dragon's agony clearly written on his features.

"Frain," he'd had to shout because both Xanierv and Chester were roaring their pain and the clearing was filled with dragons whose nostrils were flaring and different coloured smoke covered the ground. "What happen?"

"I don't know, Xanierv was out here, playing with Chester and suddenly her mind closed off from mine in a surge of pain and I came out and this is what I found." He gripped Eragon and slightly shook him, the features on the elf's face contorted with agony. "Help her master. Please help her."

"I will." Eragon promised in the ancient language, and disentangled himself from the boy and moved towards the dragon that was still flailing and the white dragon who was pouncing about like a cat.

Spreading his mind out to Xanierv, he felt her musical mind and sense the pain that was flowing from her body, causing her to flail. _Xanierv?_ He inquired.

_Master?_ She questioned, stilling slightly but still moving too much for it to be safe too approach her body.

_Yes, young one, tell me what is wrong._

_My front right paw. Pointy-hurty thing in. Warm salt life-blood is leaving._

_Okay. Can you still yourself, and roll towards me so Arya can look? I need to calm Chester._

_Yes master._

She did was she was asked, and Arya rushed forward behind him to inspect the paw, as did the other elves that live within the dragons home. The four students were gathered around, standing back; their dragons were behind them, all looking on as they were trying to take care of the hurting dragon.

_Chester? _Eragon shouted with his mind, walking towards the white dragon, who was still pouncing up and down like a kitten.

_Yes boss?_ The white dragon asked, still moving up and down.

_Stop! _Eragon commanded, even though he had no authority over the wild ones. Chester was different. A young male who didn't like to do as he was told, but was otherwise harmless, he liked to play and fly with the rider bonded dragons, even tried to get Saphira to join him but was turned away with a harsh bite to his neck.

_Yes boss._ Instantly the dragon stilled, bringing his ice blue eye face Eragon, and a shiver ran through him remembering the color of Shuriken's eyes, so eerily similar to this dragon.

_I'm going to tend to Xanierv, you stay still and put until she's well._

_Yes boss._

"Eragon?" Arya called him over, and he went to her to inspect the injury to Xanierv's paw, and his heart stilled at the injury. He's not sure what the offending object was, but it obviously held some poison that her dragon blood was fighting, containing it to the wound area. Her paw was swollen and the black object was sticking out of her foot at least an inch.

"What is that?" She asked her beautiful green eyes boring into his.

"I'm not too sure. We can examine it after we pull it out of her foot, I don't like the way it's swelling."

Arya nodded, and called the other elves over, the spoke in hushed whispers, quickly formulating a plan. Eragon listened with the back of his mind while he called over Frain, his tears slowed now that Xanierv was calm and quiet, and Chester was also calm in the background, his icy eyes never leaving the orange dragon that lay on the ground.

"Fran, we're going to pull the stick out, and it's going to hurt, but we're going to be here, all of us, and we're going to take care of her." The young elf nodded and turned to look at his dragon, compassion coming over his features as he looked back at Eragon.

"I need you to keep her calm. Be with her okay?"

"Yes Eragon-Elda."

"Good. Go-on."

Eragon patted the young elf on the shoulder and sent him to Xanierv's head, where he knelt in the dirt and laid his head against his dragons and enveloped it in his arms, his lips never ceasing movement a string of whispered words flowing between rider and dragon.

Blodghram moved between him and Arya and placed his hands on the stick. Instantly Eragon put his right hand on the furry elf's shoulder, and saw Arya do the same as she slipped her free hand into his as the lent Blodghram their strength so he could weave the spells needed to pull the poison from Xanierv's body.

They worked quickly, the elves singing their songs of healing, and Eragon adding his voice from time to time lending the healing process his and Saphira's strength.

The process took almost two hours, pulling the offending object out, watching as the poison dripped long and deep purple out of the whole, collected by an elf, and finally as the muscles and sinew were sown back together, the skin on the pad of her paw on stretching easily over the wound.

When they finished, Arya's hand left his and the stick and vial of poison were in his hands. Xanierv was on her feet again, though she walked with a slight limp. The real pain was gone, but it would live on in her mind for a while.

"Okay, the day is half gone, let us adjourn until dinner."

The parties went their separate ways leaving Eragon and Arya by themselves in the clearing, their dragons lying on the ground on either side of Chester who was looking scolded and scared in the midst of the two much larger dragons.

Turning to Arya, he remembered the embarrassment of the sunrise almost kissed and he felt his ears burn as he gazed at Arya.

"Can you take these to my house and wait for me? I need to talk to Chester." He asked, holding out the stick and vial, his ears still burning.

"Yes." She answered, looking over his shoulder at the white dragon. "You'll explain Chester to me later?"

"Yes."

She nodded her acceptance and took the things from his hands, turning and heading back towards their almost joint address.

Instead of watching her leave, which is what he wanted to do, he turned back to the wild dragon and noticed that Fìrnen didn't leave with his rider, yet stayed behind, his head tilted toward Saphira while keeping an eye the young dragon between them.

"Chester," Eragon began, walking forward to the three dragons feeling very small and insignificant against the three hulking bodies before him.

_Not sure boss. We were playing, and then she stepped on the thingy and went down with pain. I don't know what's happening._

_Okay, I'm not mad Chester; I just want to know what's going on._

_Yes boss._

_Stop calling me boss. I'm Eragon._

_Yes boss._

_DO you know this wood, and its poison?_

_The wood is just wood; it's ancient magic that makes the poison. I just know that it hurts when it mikes with dragons._

_Does this happen to wild dragons?_

_Sometimes, but not like this. I don't know where it came from._

_Okay Chester, tell the others that Queen Arya and I will be there in a few days time, and inquire about the stick and its poison._

_Yes boss._

With that, the young white dragon left, leaving the other three on the ground, watching as he flew north towards the mountain that was the wild ones home.

_Your name suits you young one._ Fìrnen spoke in his mind, and he could feel the way Saphira's hum of affection for both of them rumbled the ground, and Eragon felt his ears burn once more.

_Thank you, Fìrnen._

_If you two want to fly until dinner you can, though Fìrnen if I may, I suggest that you check in with Arya before you do._

_I will._

Then they both flew off, a lingering touch of affection from Saphira brushing his mind as she flew off with her mate.

Eragon watched for a few minutes, and Eragon turned to walk towards his house and back to Arya, to explain about Chester and hopefully find the truth of what had happened to Xanierv.


	10. Chapter 10

"Is everything ready to go?" Eragon was in the kitchens speaking to the elves enquiring about the food that he and Arya would be taking with them, as the only weapons they were allowed to take was their riders swords. The wild ones had strict rules on what they were and were not allowed to bring with them on this trek. Also they had to carry the eggs from Vroengard that were to become new members of the wild ones. Taking care of those eggs would leave little time for hunting and gathering, so they settled on bringing enough food for the both of them for the trip.

"Yes Master Eragon. Our preparations will be complete for your departure and the feast for your return and the ceremony," Eragon nodded quickly, and bowed as he left those elves to their work.

It had been a couple days since the incident with Xanier and Frain, and Chester had been back a couple of times to visit his friends with no new information as to the magic and wood that had caused the incident. He had plans to speak to the wild ones on their journey, hoping that their collective knowledge would be able to spread some light, if they couldn't he planned to confer with the Eldunari. They, at least, would be able to help him.

In that time, he and Arya had had little alone time. Meals were the worst, especially dinner, when they would awkwardly walk back to their homes together. Their dragons would float up in the sky lazily together, their thoughts drifting down about how silly they were being, but neither he nor Arya gave their words any outward care. For all he knew, she gave no inward care either. She had been stoic and distant since that morning at Grassboat Bluff, and it was a return to the way that Eragon was used to being treated by her. While he was racked with inner turmoil and guilt and regret, she seemed to be cool and collected like the Queen Eragon knew her to be.

It seemed he would always be the lovesick teenager with regards to her.

But he had been watching her closely during the days, and saw that she was learning quickly, and she listened with rapt attention and was an excellent pupil. She and Firnen were able to fend well for themselves in arial combat after two embarrassing failures and she was able to single handedly best the other four students in both swordplay and hand to hand combat. She was a fine example of a warrior and an even better example of a rider, and though she had come to him for training, she was practically ready to serve as a rider.

Though under his regulations, this trip to the wild ones was the second last step in becoming a full rider. The other may not come to pass unless he could deem himself capable of facing her on the training grounds once more, but he knew he would face that when the time came. For now he would settle on the suddenly awkward four day trip into the wild, just the two of them.

Heading back to his tree house, Eragon slowly contemplated this trip when suddenly Saphira spoke in his mind, her voice absent since Fírnen's arrival, but her presence always there,

_What is wrong little one? Your thoughts are whirling faster than a hurricane._

_Would you believe me if I said nothing?_

_Eragon, I can read your thoughts, but with you two-legged little ones, I have found that talking things out seems to help._

_You are wise beyond your years my lovely dragon._

_You were expecting something different?_

_I suppose not._

_Is it Arya? _Eragon let her question sit, knowing that Saphira probably already knew the answer. When had he had a problem that hadn't in some way, centered on the elvin queen.

_Yes. I'm worried about this trip._

_You have been alone with her before, why is this time different?_

_True, but that was before we almost kissed, that was when being with her wasn't a possibility._

_Is being with her now a possibility?_

_I... hadn't thought of that._

_That is not an answer, partner of my heart and mind. _

_I guess not. No, I don't think she wants to be with me._

She remained silent for a while, the whole time filling his mind with her love and the ways she cared for him. He was grateful that she was there with him, and suddenly her shadow was over top of him, as she flew above him as they walked towards their home. For the last few days, Saphira had spent her free time with Fírnen, with Eragon's blessing, and her appearance at his side alone was so moving to Eragon that he embraced her mind with his, and continued their walk in silence.

Near their tree, Saphira landed softly in front of him, and he immediately went to her, wrapping his arms around her snout and holding her as tightly as he could.

_She is a fool if she truly does not want you._

_Perhaps I'm the fool for hanging on. Maybe it is time I let her go._

_Whatever you decide, my little one, I will always be here for you._

[EA][EA][EA][EA]

The rain that was falling down upon them was so powerful and loud that talking out loud was impossible, even with their superior elvin hearing. However, Arya was not granted the solidarity of her own mind as Eragon's mind continued to stay pressed against her, leading her along their journey. No words or emotions or feelings of anything were shared, just a gentle direction of walking and leading her along.

Not that she minded in the least, no, she preferred it this way. The last few days since the accident with the dragon and more importantly their almost kiss, Arya couldn't handle talking to the man without feeling the overwhelming desire to actually kiss him. Which was something that she absolutely couldn't do. She wanted to, oh yes, deeply, but she was Queen of the elves and he was the lead rider, there were too many obstacles in their way. The least of which was the vast geographical distance their relationship suffered. She could not leave Du Weldenvarden, and he could not leave the home of the riders at this time. He was needed here, she was needed in her home. Logically she knew that she couldn't ever be with him, but her heart was not acting logically at this time. Nor, could she honestly say, were her thoughts. Because despite knowing that she could never be with him, it was a persistent thought that kept popping up at the most inopportune moments. Like this whole journey so far.

As the hours stretched from the home of the riders to the trip to the wild ones, Fírnen's presence in her mind dwindled until the emptiness of the threatened to consume her. It wasn't that he wasn't there, it was that he wasn't there and neither was Eragon. He'd told her that usually he did this journey alone, how he managed she wasn't entirely sure. But she knew without a doubt that he was much stronger than she knew. To bear being apart from Fírnen was nearly killing her this once, for him to go a week every six months, he must be incredibly strong of heart and mind.

And the presence against her mind told her nothing different. He truly was the Lead Rider, and no one could contest that fact.

_Arya-Elda?_ Suddenly his voice filled her head, and she wanted to sigh at the sound of his voice, the soothing tones making her already broken heart ache with the knowledge that he was never to be hers.

_Yes, Eragon-Elda? _She responded, replying with the same honorific.

_I think we should stop for the night. The egg I carry is growing cold, we need to build them a fire to keep them warm._

_Yes, I can feel the distress from my egg as well. Do you have a spot in mind?_

_No, usually the cold isn't this bad. However, about a mile away we'll come across some natural caves, there we should be able to find shelter out of the rain and build a suitable fire._

_Yes, Eragon-Elda, I will keep following you._

_Thank you, it shouldn't be long now. _With that, Arya felt him withdraw from her mind, but leave his presence there so she could keep following him.

In no time at all, they came to a cave that was deep and shallow enough that they had to crouch to get near the back. Fifty feet in, the cave ended abruptly and the wind kept howling through cooling off the air.

Arya watched as Eragon shook the water out of his hair, and undid his cloak, tunic, and undershirt and pull the egg from where it rested by his chest. Around his neck he wore a jewel of the deepest sapphire she had ever seen encased with a gold ring and a simple leather cord that tied the stone around his neck. She'd never seen this jewellery in him before, and it fascinated her now. Setting aside the curiosity she was feeling, she looked into his brown eyes and watched as he shifted his gaze away from her as he handed her the egg.

"Stay here and get a fire started, I'll go out and make a lean-to to stop the wind from coming in." His gaze shifted back to hers quickly, then he looked away again. The fact that he could not look her in the eye saddened her because his chocolate eyes were a huge part about the reasons she loved him.

"Okay." As she responded, he removed his cloak and laid it on the ground and whispered a spell that siphoned off the water from his cloak, leaving it as dry as it was when he first put it on this morning. He reached his hands towards her and she placed the egg he'd passed to her earlier in his hands and watched as he delicately wrapped it in half the cloak. She wasted no time in handing him the egg she carried and watched as he wrapped the second egg as delicately as the first.

When he was finished he stood and strode out of the cave without another glance at her. "I'll be right back."

Before she could answer, he was gone into the rain. Shaking her head and scolding her self for being stupid, and quickly set about gathering the dry kindling in the cave for the fire that would warm the eggs and them as well.

Once the fire was going Arya used the same spell on her own clothes and the bags that she and Eragon had carried with them to the cave. The minutes slipped by slowly as she waited for Eragon to return. Abruptly the wind cut off and the whistling in the cave quieted down leaving a roaring silence in its wake.

Eragon came into the cave hair dripping and a cut above his eyebrow that was bleeding into his left eye.

"Eragon!" Arya exclaimed rushing to him.

"I'm fine." He said, reaching up to wipe the blood and water away from his eye.

"You're not." She insisted, taking his elbow and leading him near the fire and the eggs. He smiled and she knew it was because like her, he could feel the contentment from the eggs emanating towards them.

He followed without complaint and sank to a sitting position against the wall. Arya quickly dried him off using magic and took his hand as she started singing in the ancient language, weaving the torn muscles and blood vessels back together, eventually sealing the layers of skin back together, sealing the wound and stopping the blood flow into his eye. His hair was still wet and as it dripped from his bangs is slowly washed away the blood that had gathered on his cheek.

His eyes followed her as she stood and retrieved one of his shirts to clean his face. As she dropped to her knees to get closer to him, she reached up with one hand and tucked some of his hair behind his ear and lightly washed his face of any remnants of blood off his cheeks. Arya wasn't sure how long she sat there wiping blood off his cheek, but after several long moments of wiping his clean cheek, her hand stilled as his came up and covered hers.

"It's clean now Arya." He whispered, slipping the rag from her fingers and dropping it to the floor. He took her fingers in his hand again giving them a light squeeze. Completely caught up in the moment she brought her free hand up to his face and grazed his cheek with the back of her fingers. She sucked in a small breath and watched as he did the same.

This was it; this was the moment that she had been waiting for, for a long while. She was going to kiss him and she knew that she wasn't going to listen to the logical side of her brain and not do it. Her soul yearned for his, longed for the connection that she hadn't felt in a long while and wanted it with him.

"Arya… I'm going to kiss you now." He whispered again, filling the silence. His body shifted slightly closer to her, his chest and profile turned closer to her, bringing them closer together in the process.

"I know." She whispered back, shifting herself closer to him.

Time stopped in that instant as their eyes connected. His brown hair was soft and chocolaty smooth and his eyes where shining with something she couldn't describe as she tilted her head closer to his. Her forehead rested against his and she could feel his breath on her cheeks and her lips and suddenly she couldn't wait any longer. Closing the distance between them she pressed her lips against his and in the briefest of chaste moments she knew that these were the lips she wanted to kiss for a very long time.


	11. Chapter 11

"Arya, what are we doing?" Eragon asked, his breath coming in short bursts. And while he asked and questioned he didn't remove his lips from hers, nor his hands from her back, but a small part (a very small part, almost inconsequential really) questioned what he was doing with Arya.

Other parts of him, parts who knew what he was doing very acutely, didn't want to question what was going on, but his brain needed to know. Because if his brain knew then his heart wasn't far behind and he could stop what he was doing if and only if she knew what they were doing. Because once his heart got involved it was most certainly only down hill from there.

"Why?" She asked, one of her hands sliding into his hair and scraping her nails across his skull, causing ripples of sensation to cascade through his body. Her other hand slipped to his lower back and gripped his shirt tightly in her fist.

He didn't know how to answer her so he lifted her slowly and pulled her closer to him so she was straddling his outstretched legs and pulled her flush with him as he deepened the kiss rested his hands on the lower swell of her hips. She responded in kind and gripped him tighter to her, the kissing getting a little out of Eragon's control, yet he was helpless to give in because his heart hasn't quite kicked into gear.

His brain, however, was just about to disengage when she suddenly pulled away from and sat against the opposite wall, the eggs and fire between them, when the world suddenly came crashing down around him.

That's what he was doing.

He could feel his heart racing, feel the burn in his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. Still feel the echoes of the tingles that ran down his spine from where her nails scratched their path from the top of his skull to just below his hairline at the top of his neck. He could feel her mind closed off to his, but he could still hear tendrils of the music that were open to his mind the sounds from her mind. Perhaps those were echoes too.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her hand covered her mouth and she had the good grace to look as embarrassed as he felt.

"For what?" He asked, just as quietly.

"That." She whispered back and a snippet of her feelings from the past several minutes jumped unbidden into his mind until her was suddenly blocked from her feelings. He was surprised that she was as out of control of her mind as he was, but his own mind was a whirlpool of thought and feeling and if she was feeling even an iota of what he was feeling, the fact that she was losing control wasn't all that surprising.

But he was still surprised.

He made a move to sit up, but a pleasing voice asked in his head that he stay put, so he did what she asked and sat back against the wall, slowly reaching his mind out towards her. Pulling his gaze towards her he watched as her green eyes studied him, her mind an impenetrable fortress that he sat outside slowly, saying over and over again, _Talk to me Arya._

They sat that way for several long minutes staring into each other eyes, her blocking him out and her staying strong with her fortress mind. It was in this moment when he saw her truly vulnerable and open that he knew that no matter if he lives for several millennia he would forever love Arya.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt the barricades in her mind lower. Layer after layer of protection slowly falling to let him into her mind. When she was finally open with him he took a step back and respected her space, trying not to overwhelm her with his presence. Holding back and not doing everything that he'd wanted to do for the longest time. But he didn't, because he knew that the second he over stepped the process of respect she would slam her barricades back in place and never lower them again.

Then he would truly lose her and his heart couldn't handle that.

_I'm sorry._ He whispered first, the music of her mind nearly overwhelming his control.

_You shouldn't be._ She replied, her musical voice filling his head, sending new shivers down his spine.

_I feel like it._ He was slightly ashamed that he acted with such impropriety, but he couldn't fully bring himself to fully regret the actions. The dull throbbing in his lips was sure to last for several hours ensuring that he wouldn't forget it for a long time.

_I acted rashly, it is I who should apologize._ She whispered back, her voice apologetic. That he could regret.

_No, Arya, you did not act rashly. We've been moving towards this moment for the last nine days, one could argue the last thirty years. Neither of us has anything to apologize for._ The corner of her mouth upturned in a smile but it quickly faded and her face returned to the stoic mask it was before.

He smiled in response, his fingers itching to reach out to her and hold her once more.

_Eragon, we shouldn't have done that._

_I know._ He responded,_ but we did, so we should talk about that._

_What do you want me to say?_

_That it wasn't the mistake you're thinking it is. We shouldn't have done it, yes, but Arya, it wasn't a mistake._

_How can you be so sure?_ There was a note of insecurity in her voice that he had never heard before, and if he hadn't heard it just now he wasn't sure that she was capable of such an emotion.

"Can I come over there?" He asked aloud, and if it weren't for his elvin eyesight he might have missed the slight nod that accompanied her response.

He stood and crouched his way to her through the low ceiling cave, around the fire and eggs and sat seven inches away from her. Her green eyes turned towards him and he smiled at her, which she was quick to return.

"I'm sure because throughout my entire life, with one exception, I haven't seen love that truly works. I've seen people who are married, people who tolerate their spouse, people who hate the person their married to, and for every single one of them, there has been this aura of negativity that surrounds them." He paused and slipped his hand into the space between them, fingers up and open for her fingers. "But when I'm with you, when we're together, in any fashion, all I can feel is the goodness in the world."

_But you, more than anyone else, knows of the negativity that exists._

_Close your eyes,_ he whispered to her mind and watched as she did what he asked.

_Give me your hand,_ he waited the several seconds it took for her to comply.

_Remember when we felt the dragons before we could see or hear them?_ She confirmed her memories with a mental nod, her fingers wrapping around his.

_Feel the dragons in the eggs. I know you could feel their discomfort earlier in the rain and cold, but now, listen to nature. Feel the way the fire wants to warm the eggs. Feel the way the cave itself welcomes the eggs._

_It's not just the living that react to the dragons presence. The living provide the world with energy, the ebb and flow of universal continuity. The world, the dirt, the inanimate, knows that dragons are about. _

It's true, the land flourished with the presence of the dragons. It wasn't just the plant life and the animals that were better, it was the entire mound of the island that became better, yielded itself to the dragon's presence.

_Why does it do that? _She asked, her voice filled with wonderment. He knew from his time in the forest that being surrounded by the trees and the animal and insect life that the world was a great place, but the whole world longed for the presence of dragons.

_That is what love is. Dragons are the most majestic of creatures, there is a longing for togetherness that the world feels for the magic of the dragons._

He brought his hand up to her cheek and gently twisted her head to face him. Her eyes opened slowly and Eragon was taken away at the subtle beauty that was the deep green of Arya's eyes and he was mesmerized by the flecks of gold that lined the outer ring of her iris's.

"That feeling. That longing… that's what I feel for you." He nodded towards the dragon's eggs, their warmth filling the space around them, and their contempt singing it's praises to the world.

She whispered his true name and he felt a power shiver spill down his entire being, drenching him in the knowledge that his love for her still stood strong and powerful in its intensity for her. He knew, that for the first time, even though she had known his true name before, that she finally understood all that he felt for her.

"How long?" She asked.

"Since the first time you appeared in my dreams?" He voiced in the ancient language, it was pretty much the truth. He fell the first time he saw her, the first time her heard her voice, the first time he saw he kill a man. Everything he saw in her made him love her more.

"I know you know this, and I know I've said it before…" he paused, to give her time to tell him not to talk anymore. "I love-"

"I know you do." She cut him off, placing her fingers on his lips to stifle the flow of words from his mouth.

"You do?" He asked around her fingers, the words coming out mumbled which drew a smile from her.

"I do." She responded, dropping her hand from his face.

"I know that you don't love me the way that I love you, that the way I love you. But I do Arya-Dröttningu, I love you." He whispered as she pressed her lips to his, stifling the flow of words from his mouth.

"I never said that Eragon." She whispered, pulling away from him and looking him in the eye. "I do care for you, a lot." He noticed that she didn't say love, it dropped his heart a little, but he kept that too himself. "I know that isn't what you wanted to hear, but Eragon, this – you and me – could never happen."

"This did happen Arya. This is happening." He said.

"You mean more to me than anything else, but we can't do this." She whispered, stroking his cheek once more and kissing him softly, chastely. With that she put up her barriers once more and moved him away from him and to the opposite side of the cave and turned away from him.

He sighed and wiped a tear from his cheek. "I'll be outside." Luckily the rain had stopped, but the chill still lingered in the air, and he could hear the ocean across the mountain range, roaring with all its might as his heart thumped a painful rhythm against his ribs.

[EA][EA][EA][EA][EA]

The rest of the journey passed in silence. The only connection they had was the gentle presence of minds and the occasional word of caution. Arya felt horrible about what had transpired between them, but knew it was the only way to guard her heart. In the process she knew that she broke his, but she was also protecting him. There was a faint voice in the back of her head that reminded her of Fírnen, that told her she was being lied to by herself.

The wild ones were helpful and sent them back with two new eggs, one a dull black and one that was a lighter green. It was almost a mint colour that shone as bright as the sunshine. They were able to identify the poisoned wood, but not its source, they were also able to say that it's at its most potent when combined with dark magic, a fact which was worrisome to both Eragon and the dragons, dark magic having been gone from the world since the fall of the black king. Arya was also slightly worried that this information came on the same day when they received an egg that was dark like that of the black king.

Shruiken was forced to hatch for the black king, so his madness could almost be excused, but the population of Alagasiea might not react favorably to a new black dragon.

The wild ones welcomed her to the ranks of Dragon Rider and commended her for her duty to her kind, but the behind the praise was an undercurrent of warning that she also owed some allegiance to the dragons and her fellow warning. Also with the presence of the dark magic and poison in the world, especially the new home of the riders, she should be on her guard and prepare to answer the call of the riders should they need her. Arya knew that the peace the pervaded the land couldn't last forever, but she had hoped that it would last for longer than a generation.

But now they were heading back to the home of the riders, Eragon had tucked his egg inside his undershirt against his chest and the necklace that he wore, and sacrificed his cloak for the egg that she carried because as the journey wore on the temperature dropped and the gale that peppered the beginning was making its return, and yet they were not stopping this time. Eragon wanted to get back to check out the wood and poison they had collected, also to return the eggs to the eldunari, and confer with the other riders and Chester.

"Arya?" He asked, the first time that he'd directly spoken to her in three days.

"Yes." She answered, noticing the way he kept his voice devoid of all emotion and sentiment.

"If you could be so kind as to not mention my indiscretion to the others. I know you never would, but I ask that you don't tell Fírnen also." She was hurt that he even asked, though he started by saying that.

"Of course, but Eragon-" She started, wanting to apologize.

"No Arya, you've said enough." There was a note of anger in his voice, and he silenced her with a look before his face was an emotionless mask much like the one she wore.

She had said enough, but knew that she should say so much more.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: **MonsterJunkie keeps asking for an author's note, so here we go. I like this story, I do. But I ended up in a bad place last March. I got really down, I wasn't depressed, just really sad. (I went to a therapist, depression wasn't on the __table.) And it took a long time for me to come back. I'm sorry I was gone for so long, I hope it doesn't happen again, but the mind does what the mind wants. But just so you know, I hope to be here for a while. Thank you for the reviews and the kind words._

_~RawPotato_

* * *

><p>Eragon knew that he shouldn't have spoken to Arya the he had, but he wasn't sure that he could have said anything to her another way. She let him kiss her, kissed him back, even allowed it to go one for several minutes and yet she had said it was a mistake. He'd poured his heart out to her again and was once more shot down. He didn't know why he'd even bothered to try, he knew without a doubt that he had to let her go now. It would be a struggle because he hadn't been able forget her in the last 30 years, he doubted the next thirty years would offer him solace. Luckily he knew that he had thousands of years in the foreseeable future to get over her and that would be his next task.<p>

Now he knew what true heartbreak was. He thought he'd known the two previous times she'd rebuked his advances, but he was wrong. For some reason his youthful heart had still maintained hope. But that flame was vanquished now as she put him down for good.

So he reacted immaturely and didn't speak with her for the next five days, except when he was teaching her and all of the other riders. She listened attentively and did her work like the others, but only tried to speak with him when in the instructional setting. They both knew that she was more the master than he was, but he was the Lead Rider, he had more experience and ability with fighting than she did, but she didn't often show him up.

Except how he was worried, it was the final test for her until he would deem her ready for the world, he would have to meet her on the sword field. He knew that she would best him, he knew that she knew that she was better at sword fighting than he was, but it was one of the obstacles that he'd set down for the riders. If they couldn't best him, and there weren't many in this realm that could, they had to at least be able to handle him one on one for a long stretch. He had battled many of the strongest swords Alagaesia had to offer him and he had come out victorious more times than not.

Most of the not had been against Arya. It was a foregone conclusion that she would best him, but the young riders needed to see them cross swords, to see what true sword play was like.

The rain had left their home lush and green, the eggs were in his house, he'd been unable to take Arya to see the eldunarí, his anger and frustration at her overwhelming him to the point of not being able to be near her in any fashion. He knew that it was his job as the lead Rider to rise above all of these situations, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. The fact that he loved her so much meant that now he hated her so much.

Except he didn't hate her. That was the problem.

Striding onto the sword field he saw that Arya was there already, practicing lunges and parries, and he had to police his urge to smile and take in joy at her appearance. His mind reminded him that she didn't want him the way he wanted her and that he shouldn't be glad to see her. Because he was supposed to not like her anymore.

Sitting on the wooden barrier that marked the boundary of the sword arena were the four young riders, glee and mirth written all over their faces. Several of the elves that had committed their lives to the continuation of the riders walked around the ring and were there to watch this fight. He and Arya were known to have intense battles against each other, and he knew that today would be no different.

All six matched dragons were around the ring as well, Saphira was next to Fírnen, and Eragon suffered a quick pang of jealousy which he quickly stamped down. He would not give into feeling jealous over his dragons feelings. She deserved happiness, no matter the cost it brought him, he would not stoop so low as to prevent her from love.

"Okay, let's do this." The four young riders gave a whoop of cheers as Eragon approached Arya. She wore her traditional black leather outfit, her hair tied tightly in a knot that sat on top of her head, Támerlein at her side.

He untied Brisingr's sheath from his side and threw it to the ground where he dropped his cloak, leaving him only in his boots, a pair of leggings and a black tunic that was open at his chest. He could feel his pendant swinging around his neck as he blunted Brisingr's edge. He watched as Arya did the same, and they met in the center of the ring to shake hands and kept the contact brief because he felt a jolt of electricity pass through his hand and down his spine again. He flexed his fingers as he took several steps backwards to start this battle.

_Take caution Little One, the rider of Fírnen looks fierce like a baby dragon on its first hunt._ Saphira cautioned in his mind and he offered a small smile knowing that she was looking at him.

_Why aren't you cautioning her?_ He asked, as he and Arya circled each other, both swords hung loosely in their hands, blades facing down.

_I love you Little One, you are a fierce warrior and a prime specimen of the two-legged types. However, she has bested you several times before. I worry about you._

_Thanks, Saphira, you know, for being on my side. _He said with a small touch of resentment.

_Of course I'm on your side, I don't like seeing you hurt._

_You think I'm going to get hurt? You know, you could just say 'good luck.'_

_You could listen to me._

_You're an over grown lizard._

_You'd still be tasty._

Neither of them had yet to make a move towards each other, and Eragon had a sneaking suspicion that Arya was having a similar conversation with her own dragon judging by the look on her face.

_One day Saphira, you're going to be so convinced of my tastiness that you might have to sample me yourself._

_Who, then, would be left for me to tease?_

_Oh, all of Alagaesia would love to be teased by you I'm sure._

_Yes, but you're the one I love, so I suppose that I'll have to restrain myself._

_That makes one person that loves me._

In a turn of fates that Eragon couldn't be sure weren't ordained by whatever gods ruled this world, Arya chose that moment to attack. They parried back and forth furiously, and despite his improved skill, Arya still had the upper hand, however it wasn't as pronounced as it used to be and they were almost evenly matched.

Seconds and minutes slipped by in a blur, parries and lunges and taps were given and every time she tapped him he was able to tap her back. Sweat was forming on his brow and he could feel it dripping down his back as she fought him.

For a long while she got the upper hand and after a particularly nasty smack to his back, he felt his anger rising and her frown told him that she was finding this just as difficult as he was, yet she still maintained the upper hand. Then another smack to his thigh and his sword erupted into the blue flame that was it's name sake he only noticed as the magic pulled against the special place in his mind and saw the flames just as he was about to deal a blow to Arya's shoulder.

Seeing the flames he swore loudly and pulled up short so as not to hit her with the magically enhanced flaming blade. The move of not hitting her dislocated his shoulder and he dropped the sword. It lay on the grass flaming as he lifted his sword arm with his other. The match over, all the people in the arena ran to him.

_Little one! _Saphira shouted in his mind.

_I'm fine, please stay back so I can give the hatchlings a lesson._

_Are you sure Eragon? You're hurt, I can feel._

_I'll be fine, I promise._

Arya reached him first, and the first thing he noticed was the sweat that lined her brow and her upper lip. He was overtaken with the urge to kiss her again, but that was probably just the pain talking. He couldn't be sure, but she gripped his hand tightly as his eyes watered with pain. "Looks like you win again," he winced out, not sure that any of them could have heard him.

"You never could beat me Farm Boy." She whispered in his ear, the rest of their group surrounding him.

"No, no I couldn't." He smiled at her, turning his attention to his students. Their faces were a myriad of emotion ranging from glee to concern to joy and excitement. "This, young riders, it was defeat looks like. There is pain," he grimaced as one of the elves poked his shoulder in exploration of the wound. "And suffering. Arya and I had dulled our blades, just as you do every time you spar. There was little chance of accidental injury."

"But master," Frain started, "you got injured."

"Yeah," Derrick cut in, "why did you stop from dealing that blow to Arya-Elda?" The others glared at him and he quickly added, "Master."

"My blade is not like yours, as you probably saw it became engulfed in flames." He stopped the flow of magic and the blade extinguished its flames. Quickly his mind became engulfed in the pain in his shoulder and he swallowed it down to continue his lesson. "I wasn't sure that blade would have been properly dulled with the flames engulfed. Since we were only sparring I didn't want to cause her any undo harm."

"Don't ever pull back in battle. Arya and I are friends," the word was hard to say because he wasn't sure what hey were now, or what they would be in the future. "We both knew that, Arya knew that when I dropped my sword she had won and that the match was over." Her fingers gripped his tighter at those words.

"Correct. You never hurt the ones you care about." Eragon looked into her greens eyes and watched as she gave him a knowing look.

He still kind of hated her.

But he was confused as to what she meant. Arya was very often intentional with her words, and remembering what she said a few days ago about how he loved her and that she card for him, so he knew that she knew what she had done to him.

"The six of us, and our magnificent dragons, form the first and last line of defense for this world. We need each other the way that each of you needs your dragon. We work better when we're together." Everyone nodded at that while Eragon made the motion to stand and as he was helped up by Arya and Blödhgarm to his feet, he reached for the hands of his team. Arya kept hold of his right hand, helping to keep his dislocated shoulder elevated. The young riders quickly placed their hands on top of his and he continued, "We need each other. Remember that."

They looked at each other and nodded, grim determination on their faces. "We'll meet for dinner in two hours time, for now the day is yours. I suggest you wear your best clothes."

They all bowed to him and took their leave, Arya staying near him. Even though she suggested that she hadn't meant to hurt him, she had, and he was hurt beyond belief. So hurt in fact that he pulled his hand away from her. He though he saw a brief flash of pain, but it was gone faster than it came and he knew he wasn't nearly as forgiving of her as he used to be.

"Blödhgarm," he began turning to the furry elf, giving Arya his back. "Can you please fix my arm?"

"Of course Eragon-Elda." Blödhgarm took his shoulder in his hands and started singing as Arya turned and walked back towards her house. Eragon grimaced as the shoulder popped back into place, but the relief was immense as the elf sang songs of healing. When the elf was done Eragon opened his eyes and saw that she was gone, farther and faster than she should have been able to go in the time that he had had his eyes closed.

But that was Arya and his relationship, one second together, miles and miles apart the next. So tumultuous it was, Eragon never really knew which way was forward with the two of them.

"Thank you Blödhgarm." He said, stretching his arm windmilling the shoulder joint to test its mobility. It moved without issue but the last vestiges of pain still echoed in his mind.

"You are most welcome Eragon-Elda." He started with a slight bow. "The feast will be ready on time, and it will be grand."

"Thank you. Please, make sure you guys join us, tonight is a special occasion and you should all be there."

"Yes Eragon-Elda, we will see you there." Blödhgarm gave another slight nod and left towards the kitchen area and where the eldunarí are kept safe. He still owed Arya that trip to see the new home for the hearts and souls of the dragons.

He headed home to write her a quick note to let her know that he would keep his promise. Above him, he could see Saphira and Fírnen floating lazily above him, swooping together and doing rolls around each other.

_She cares for you, Rider of Saphira._ Fírnen's deep voice filled his head.

_I know she does Fírnen, but she doesn't love me._ He replied.

_Elves and humans don't see affection the same way. Elves are a complicated race, Eragon-Kingkiller._ Fírnen added.

_Little one, all might not be lost. _Saphira added.

_Your partner of your mind and heart is correct. There is still a chance._

_No there isn't. She said as much. _He practically shouted at the dragons. Flashes of warning lit his brain and his apologized.

_If you two would just tell us what happened on the journey to the wild ones, we could help. _The thought came from both Saphira and Fírnen, so at the same time he thought they may have planned to have this talk with either of them at the first opportunity.

_No. I love you Saphira, and Fírnen, you have nothing but my respect and admiration as Saphira's mate and the dragon of the elvin queen, but the two of you have no idea what transpired between Arya and I. And you won't know. Please, Saphira, I ask that you two let this drop._

Eragon put up his guards against the two of them, much to the protestation of both of them. He knew that they could easily crush him, but it seemed that they would let him be because they floated off together. Dropping the barriers, Saphira spoke one last line. _We'll be back for the feast. You are the holder of my heart, partner of my heart and mind._

Eragon sent her a mental nod, and climbed the stairs to his tree house to send that note to Arya, he knew taking her to the eldunarí would be painful enough, he decided that sending the not was the only way he would e able to bring them together.


	13. Chapter 13

When Eragon asked Blödhgarm to help him with his shoulder and not her, that was the moment that Arya knew that she had truly, and possibly irrevocably, ruined things forever with Eragon. Not that she should care, because if he were committed to stop pursuing her, then she wouldn't have to worry any further about advances from him. That was, after all, the reason she had refused him after their kiss.

So, if that were the case (part of her argued) why did she feel horrible about the fact that she was obviously angry with her? She cared for him, deeply, possibly more than she'd ever cared for anyone in her life, and if she were completely honest with herself, the human equivalent of what she felt was love, the way Eragon had defined it for her in the cave. She could feel the longing for him that the earth feels for dragons, but she was also afraid of that. Of the implications of what possibly loving him in that way meant.

Because if she let herself give into her feelings then something else would have to give. Eragon would have to leave the riders, which she couldn't let him do. As he said, the riders were the first and last line of defense for the world, and he was the Lead Rider, he was their most formidable asset and the Riders, no all of Alagaesia needed him.

And if she needed him, she would have to let that go.

And she did need him. Need his presence in her life. He was her closest friend. They traversed across all of Alagaesia together and in that time she had gotten to know him and she was sure that she had let him get to know her, but know she couldn't be sure. He was still in love with her, of that she had little doubt. She could see it in his action, could see it in the way that he acted around her. But more than that she knew that she had hurt deeply. He didn't behave this way they other two times she had to stop his advances, he'd rebounded into friendship and they continued on like nothing happened. That wasn't happening this time. He gave her no inclination that he wanted to even maintain their friendship.

And that was truly scary, but she hadn't known before that it was an all or nothing question. She didn't know if they could recover, but the thought of them not even being friends scared her more than she was willing to admit even to herself.

Walking to her chest of drawers she pulled out the gifts she brought for the riders from Rhünon and the on behalf of all the elves in Ellesmera. Setting those aside she pulled out the gift she brought for Eragon. She hadn't given it to him yet, and now she wasn't sure she should, it was oddly intimate the fairth she'd made for him, but it was one of her favorite memories she had of him.

He stood at the edge of a cliff somewhere in the middle of Alagaesia on the precipice of the Hadarac desert, the golden sand a deep color in the sunset. Brisingr was in his hand and Saphira could be seen off in the distance. She couldn't remember when this had transpired, part of her thinks it may have been on of her waking dreams or one of the times she had scryd him during the war. However, the clarity the of the fairth told her that whenever she'd seen this scene it imprinted itself onto her mind quite clearly.

He looked like the fearsome warrior she knew he was, that he was the hero that Alagaesia deserved and needed, and he proved that when he finally defeated Galbatorix. But she also had the vague sense that this was the first time that she had seen him as a man, and not as the farm boy he was previously.

In her window flew a well constructed Grassboat, her heart soared a little bit that it might be the first step into repairing their relationship, but on which level she wasn't sure. Because even though she had refused his advance, her lips still longed for his. She wanted to give him the loved that he deserved. Pulling out the small square of paper from the mast, she watched as the boat settled on her bureau and stopped floating around.

For some reason the fact that the boat didn't keep flying around after she pulled the note out saddened her greatly.

_Arya,_

_I realize my behaviour towards you recently hasn't been exactly amicable, and I apologize for that. I promised you that I would show you the new home of the eldunarí and where Glaedr rests. Also where the store of Riders swords is. If you are willing, we can go tonight after the Rider's feast, though it will be late, I know that this is your last night here before you fly back to Ellesmera._

_Let me know, Eragon._

If the boat not flying saddened her, the fact that he did not call the forest of Ellesmera her home elated her. The forest was, and always will be, her safe harbor in, but her home is where ever she is needed. Right now, she felt her home was here with the riders and Eragon, despite her duties in the forest.

Going to the fairth, she pressed her mind out towards Eragon, surprised to find him in his home just across the forest path from her. His mind was guarded, but she gently pressed herself against those barriers, sensing when he recognized her presence and lowered his guards.

_Arya?_ He questioned, hesitance in his voice.

_The eldunarí, tonight will be fine, thank you for keeping your promise Eragon-Elda._

_The pleasure will be mine._

He closed off his mind and she missed the subtle tones of music that flitted through his. Before the Blood-Oath celebration there wasn't music in his mind, and she found the elfin addition another factor that won him to her favour. He wasn't an elf, but nor was he human any longer. He was a mix of both, it wasn't strange that he should have that elfin trait, and she wondered if he was aware of it.

_Arya? _He asked, pressing himself against her barriers even though he kept a respectable distance.

_Yes?_

_Come to your window, please._

_Okay._ She did what he asked, and saw that he was in his own window. In his hands he held a boat made out of some colored leaves. He lifted the boat to his hands and blew it towards her. As it floated towards her, they locked eyes. He offered a small smile and she watched as the setting sun glinted off his hair, blond sun-streaks glinting in the breeze.

She caught the boat and offered him her own smile small. He waved and went back into his house and shut the window. She looked at the window for several seconds and rearranged her face to show no emotion, hiding the pain that sprung up from his leaving. There was another note in the mast of this boat, when pulled out it kept moving around.

Smiling, she read her second note.

_I'm getting better at this boat building thing._

_I promise I won't try anything tonight, or ever again. I know I've said that before, but it's time to let you go. I'm sorry for the hurt, and the pain I might have caused you._

_Eragon, Vanquisher of Snails._

[EAEA][EA][EA][EA]

The feast was going exactly as it should. Sadly his brother Murtagh wasn't with them, but that was a hope that Eragon had yet to give up. He sent out birds with notes requesting that his brother come to them, to train with the rider's, to help him lead the riders. Also for Thorn to be with other dragons. He'd seen the pain in dragons souls who had been forced to hatch in the eldunarí and he knew that both Thorn and Murtagh were broken souls and he wanted to help them in anyway he knew how.

The laughter and wine flowed as easily as the conversation and the gathered riders and elves were having the best time they had had since being on the island. They ate in the great all, a room large enough to hold the six dragons comfortably. Eragon supposed that when more riders joined them the room might not hold all the dragons of all the riders, but for now, there was enough for the six of them.

He had the pendant, a gift from the eldunarí and the elves and him, for any rider that is not safe with them in their new city, for Arya. The emerald in it came from the very mountain they were now sitting it. It was a deep green much like Fírnen and it sat in a silver ring much like his did, but the chain and ring were made from a metal the dwarves were familiar with called platinum. It was supposed to be strong unlike any metal he had ever heard of, but it glinted silver and looked well with the green of the emerald. It was enchanted with several spells, some of which he spent weeks crafting, like the pendants he had for his students in his house, he even had a ruby one for Murtagh, when he returned to them.

Each was connected to the other, all a rider had to do was grip the pendant in their hand and whisper the motto of the ancient language and the pendants of the other riders would alert their wearer to that riders location and they would mobilize to them. It would work across the length of Alagaesia and beyond, and each of them contained a vast store of energy mined from the mountain and the eldunarí, their gift to the new race of riders.

Gripping the wooden box in his hands he stood and faced his students, the elves and Arya and began his speech.

"I never planned for this." He began as the table fell silent. It was daunting having so many people watch him, but he knew that everyone in this room respected him, and that fact alone gave him courage. He was never good a public speaking, but this was his job in life, to lead the riders. "When Saphira hatched for me I didn't know what the world had in store for me."

_Be strong Little One,_ Saphira whispered in his head, funneling her love and strength into him, filling his chest with a happiness that he couldn't describe.

"My father Brom was my first teacher. He was a good man, a good rider. I am proud to be his son. There are two things that Brom taught me that have stayed with me my whole life. The first is that it takes three parts fool and one part courage to tackle a task. He told me this when I was young, sixteen, and was mostly fool and courage. The reason we train is so that we can tackle any situation that comes out way. But in the moments we're most scared, when any plan we think of is utter lunacy, all we have to remember is that all it takes is a little bit of courage.

"The second is that no matter what, no matter the situation, no matter the danger or the trial or the outcome, you never give up." He coughed, the pain from that day as fresh in his mind as the day it happened. "Brom gave his life for me because he believed in me as a rider, just as I believe in everyone of you."

"The rider who trained me as a rider is also gone, his name was Oromis. His dragon, Glaedr was a magnificent dragon of gold, and the two of them gave me more than I ever could have hoped for."

He looked at each of his students for several seconds, saving Arya for last, he green eyes fixed on him. The pain of their recent encounter still fresh but dulled slightly with the knowledge that he chosen to give his love for her up, to stop pursuing her.

"What they gave to me, I give to you. We are the riders and with our dragons we protect this land and we protect each other."

He pulled the pendant out of it's box and hung the chain around his finger as he held it up for all those gathered to see.

"But I give to you something else. As you've been taught, you are to store energy in the precious stones in the pummels of your swords every night, to build your stores in case we ever go to battle. This pendant, that each of you will get in time is a vast store of energy given to each rider as gift from the elves that live here with us and the mining of the mountain, and a gift to you from me."

He saw as Arya's eyes flitted to his chest where his own pendant rested and he saw understanding cross her features.

"Reach your minds to this pendant, feel the gift that will be bestowed upon each of you." He watched as they all did as he asked, wonder passed the young ones faces, and Eragon knew that they hadn't encountered this amount of energy ever before.

"Arya, come here please."

She did as he asked and he unclipped the latch so he could put it on her. "When you are away from our home, you need only hold it in your hand and whisper our creed in the ancient language and every rider with a similar pendant will fly to your immediate assistance."

The young ones clapped as Arya pulled her hair out of the way and he put the necklace around her neck and put the clip back together. She thanked him and went back to her seat, her fingers wrapped around the smooth emerald, a smile on her face.

Still standing, Eragon gripped his goblet and lifted it in the air. "To the riders."

"The riders!" Was chorused by many voices joined by the rumblings of the dragons growls.

As Eragon sat, the hubbub of the table picked up around him and he sat back quietly, taking joy from his students and the way they seemed to finally be getting along. He was sure it wouldn't last, once the idea of competition got back into their heads, but for now it was nice to see revelry where before he only saw rivalry.

Looking at Arya, he saw that she was still smiling, but now she was looking at her and he nodded at her, offering her a small smile, still not fully trusting her smile. The love he had for her burned bright within his soul and he wanted nothing more than to give in to it, but he had to remind himself that she didn't want him.

Suddenly he felt her presence in his mind and he lowered his barriers, allowing her entrance.

_You've gotten better at public speaking._

_No I haven't. It's just less terrifying when I know that I could easily best at least four of the people in this room without really trying._

_I'm sure that's true of most rooms._

_Possibly, but this room also contains the four people I'm supposed to be whacking with a stick, bruising their egos._

_You're good at it._

_Speaking? Hardly, but I'm working on it._

_No, not speaking Eragon-Elda, teaching. You have a gift._

He paused, not quite sure where she was going with this. _I have good students._

_Yes you do, but you are a good teacher Eragon, the riders are lucky to have you._

_Thank you Arya._ She nodded at him, but left her presence in his mind, signaling that she wasn't quite done talking to him.

_You are welcome. So we'll see the eldunarí later?_

_Yes, after the young ones are sent to bed. I've yet to explain to them about the eldunarí, I think we'll keep that one of our guarded secrets._

_But you've told me._

_Yes, because you are familiar with Glaedr and Oromis. Glaedr, by the way, was excited at the prospect of getting to speak with you._

_And I, with him._

_Also, I trust you._

She withdrew contact at then, and his focus shifted back to the room. The feast was winding down, the young riders becoming tired with their full bellies and hearts.

_She does care for you Eragon._ Saphira spoke in his mind.

_I know she does Saphira, but that isn't enough._

_Why not?_

_Because I don't mean to her what she means to me._

_I think you're wrong._

_Don't you always?_

_Usually, yes._ She joked, filling the space of their minds with love and warmth. _But in this case, I especially think it._

_Why? What makes me so wrong this time?_

_I have seen Firnen's mind, he is the mind-heart partner of Arya-Elf-Queen. He knows how she feels. Not that he tells me anything, but I too have seen her mind. _

_It's not her mind that is the problem, dear dragon of mine, it is her heart._

_Eragon, partner of my mind and heart, I love you, but sometimes your pointy ears don't hear very well and you are a silly boy._

_But I'd still be tasty, right?_

_Always Little One, always._


	14. Chapter 14

They didn't have to wait long for the young riders to shuffle off to bed, their dragons with them, leaving Eragon and Arya to themselves. Arya watched as Eragon sat at the table and finished the last mouthfuls of his wine. He hadn't over done it, like he had in previous times, and for that Arya had nothing but respect for him.

But as her new rider's pendant hung around her neck, she didn't know what to think of him anymore. She knew that she cared for him deeply, possibly he was the person she cared for most in this world, and she didn't know what to do with that. She could not leave the forest, he could not leave the riders. That left nothing for them. Her subjects expected her to marry, to provide their race with an heir, and they expected her to achieve that end with an elf. Elves, much like dragons, rarely mated for life.

Her parents had the longest match she had ever heard of, two centuries long. When you lived for an eternity, it was difficult to maintain relationships for that long of time, so they'd compromised, elves would mate together for as long as they wanted, after which they would go their separate ways. There was a couple, currently not together right now, that had an on and off relationship for the past eight hundred years. But that was not the kind of relationship that Eragon had in mind. He was a human, humans loved forever.

"Shall we go?" His soft voice filtered into her mind, derailing her train of thought and bringing her to the present. The small smile that graced his face as he looked towards her both warmed her and made her sad, knowing that he had vowed to give her up. She didn't want that, but she wasn't sure where they could be anything more.

"Yes, please." She replied.

He stood and started toward the back of the hall. The dragons had covered this area as they huddled together during the feast and covered this area. Now it was just bathed in shadow, the recesses of the hall draped in shadow and darkness. It was cold in this part of the hall, unnaturally so when compared to the relative warmth of where they had just been sitting.

She listened as he mumbled something in the ancient language and placed Brisingr in a compartment that opened to the side of them. He gestured to her to do the same with Támerlein, she laid the green sword beside his blue and moved closer to him gathering his warmth into herself.

_You're going to feel a slight weight fall upon you now, please don't be alarmed. It's a necessity of the Vault of Souls._ His voice was soft in her head and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but kept his distance.

She just nodded and waited. Slowly, the weight he spoke of settled upon her and she knew quickly that performing magic in this place would be difficult. She could still access the parts of her that she needed, but it felt as if she were slogging through a bog, soaking wet. As everything still, the drawer with their swords closed and a slab of rock shifted open, leading to a small hall with a spiral of stairs that lead the way down.

Eragon disentangled his arm from her shoulders and lead the way through the hole in the wall, she followed behind him, keeping her eyes focused on the entrails of his shirt in the gloom. No human would be able to see in this darkness, but her elvin sight, and obviously Eragon's, allowed them easier passage.

They kept walking down, minute after minute slipped by and after ten she felt his mind reach out to her, maintain his distance. It was a struggle to lower her barriers, but she did it, wondering what he wanted to say.

_Sorry about the precautions Arya, I made it an upmost importance to ensure the safety and well being of the eldunarí and the dedicated eggs that have not been sent out to match with riders._

_I understand, even appreciate the effort, but the weight I feel, our swords? What is that?_

_Cauroc can defend the eldunarí and eggs brilliantly, but this was an added measure to prevent the disabling of Cauroc. No swords, no magic. It's a terrible feeling, I know, but one that I am happy to make._

_The eggs we retrieved from the Wild Ones, when did you bring them down?_

_Just before the feast, I needed to get them safe._

Arya's excitement was growing the longer they descended into the mountain, she hadn't seen the last Vault of Souls, only had heard of it from Eragon. This was the riders greatest secret, and he was sharing it with her. As far as she knew, he was the only one that knew the exact whereabouts of the Vault, and that was something so monumental for the continuation and safety of the riders.

_How much farther will we have to go?_

She watched as his hand stretched out towards the wall and he ran his fingers along it for several seconds. Bringing his fingers back to his face he sniffed the fingers, an act that she was concerned about, but he quickly answered.

_Several minutes. Shouldn't be too much longer._

_That's fantastic._

_When we get there, Cauroc will require mental submission to test your means and loyalty to the riders, though you can best me at any competition, I suggest you don't try it with Cauroc._

_Who is this Cauroc?_

He laughed suddenly out loud in the silence, _You will see._

They continued on in silence, the tunnel and stairs descending deeper and deeper into the mountain, the air getting warmer and warmer as they went. Within a few minutes the tunnel started becoming lighter, bathed in a soft orange glow. Arya's eyes adjusted slowly, her vision becoming sharper in the light.

All of a sudden the tunnel ended and they were thrust into a room that was more grand than anything Arya had ever seen. There were eldunarí of various shapes and colors, soft light emitting from each one. On one wall the was an alcove of eggs of many colors, she couldn't be sure but on quick count there were over a hundred eggs there, dedicated to the riders, to the cause of the riders, and he heart soared as she took in the sight, Eragon's arm held in front of her preventing her from moving deeper within the cave.

Then she felt something enter her mind. It wasn't hostile, but it was immense and ancient in its presence, and it quickly required her submission. She did as Eragon had asked and submitted quickly and quietly and within minutes it seemed as if the giant medal statue that was known as Cauroc had what he wanted from them, and let their minds go. Eragon's arm dropped and he looked at her, smile still on his face.

"Let's go see Glaedr." She nodded and he set off quickly. She followed him while looking all around the chamber, the amount of eldunarí in the room was incredible, she could feel their presence everywhere, and she could also feel the madness of a few of them.

Evidentially Eragon had been watching her, because his voice sounded in her ear, his whisper full of concern and compassion, "Those are the eldunarí we saved from Galbatorix's castle. He tortured them for a long time, and we are working together, myself and the other eldunarí, to save them from their madness."

"Do they know where they are?" She asked in the whisper, fighting to urge to lean into him.

"I think so. Thrysré, one of the oldest eldunarí, seems to agree, but it will be a long road. They enjoy the rise of the riders, and seem to understand that we're trying to help them, but it's difficult. Cauroc defends them endlessly."

She nodded, unable to continue along that line of conversation, rage filling her body. She knew that the black king was long dead, but she still couldn't understand how anyone could harm the soul of a dragon. She supposed that is why Thorn and Murtagh were keeping their distance, they too were broken by the black king. Her heart suddenly filled with compassion for the two and for Eragon, knowing that Eragon could help his brother just as little as he could help these eldunarí.

"I'm sorry about Thorn and Murtagh Eragon." She whispered, turning them away from the corner with the mad eldunarí.

He swallowed and nodded, taking her hand in his as he lead them to the alcove that held the golden stone of the heart of her once mentor. She couldn't describe how much she missed Oromis, but she rarely let that show. Her mother yes, she wept for her mother a couple times over the years, but the depth of her sadness for Oromis was different. Their relationship hadn't been as tumultuous.

The first thing she noticed was that Naegling, Oromis's sword was in the alcove with the smooth stone. Without a word, Eragon dropped her hand and left her alone with Glaedr, offering her privacy for this reunion.

_Glaedr._ She whispered, gently placing her hand on the stone, it's warmth filling her.

_I am well. _His deep rumble caused a tear to slip from her eye. She missed this dragon, missed the music of his mind as the deep rumbling bass filled her.

_I see that Oromis's sword is here with you._

A wave of appreciation overtook his mind as he reached himself to the store of energy in the pommel diamond. Arya reached her own mind towards it and was wowed at its store. It was unfathomable how endless that ocean of energy was.

_Eragon-Elda gave it to me years ago, it's given me comfort for a long time. It is just energy, and I know that it is impossible to sense Oromis in it, but it feels like his mind. _

Arya closed her eyes as she paid attention to the way the energy felt. She couldn't say that she felt Oromis in the energy, but if anyone were able to create such a vast store, it certainly was Glaedr and Oromis.

_I sense discomfort in you Arya, what is the matter?_

_Nothing, nothing. I am simply happy to see you, and Naegling. _She wondered where Eragon had gotten the sword from.

_Arya, we've known each other for a long time, why do you insist on trying to trick me?_

_I'm not Glaedr-Elda. Well… maybe I am._

_Tell me Arya, what is troubling you?_

_It is Eragon._

_Is he acting the scoundrel again? I'll say, one of the most stubborn hatchlings I've ever had the misfortune to teach._ His words were laced with malice, but his voice and feelings implied that he truly cared for Eragon.

_He is doing a wonderful job training the new riders._

_He would do, just to prove me wrong._

_Hush you, you believed in him the whole time._

_Perhaps you are correct. Oromis and I, we believed in both of them. As did you, if I recall._

_Yes, I always have. It's just…_ Was she really about to confess her feelings out loud, to someone besides Fírnen?

_You can tell me anything, I will guard your secrets and your heart young one._

_I want to be with him._ There, she's said it. Admitted it, and suddenly everything about what she'd done to him came crashing back to her in a tidal wave of memories and feelings. She willingly passed it on to Glaedr, the entirety of their relationship passed through her to him. Her fears about being with him, fears about being without him, everything.

_So the choice is duty to your crown, or duty to your heart?_ Leave it to a dragon to sum it up so succinctly.

Her heart? Or her crown?

_Can't you have both?_

_I don't know how that would work._

_Young one, you spent thirty years apart from him and your feelings for him never faltered. Not once. In fact, they grew stronger. Why can't you have both?_

_Wait. How would a relationship apart work?_

_You are both fierce warriors with the fastest way to traverse the world. You both have an astounding command of magic, are you honestly telling me that if you commit to him and he to you, that distance would be the thing that is your downfall?_

Is that what she was worried about? She didn't doubt the way he felt about her, and she didn't doubt the way she felt about him, but did she doubt the distance? No, that was silly. He was right, they had been apart for thirty years and still they cared for each other deeply. Distance was not the wall she had thought it was, and as it came crumbling down, he fears of his promise to not pursue her further filtered through her mind.

What if he no longer wanted to be with her?

_The boy is no fool. He would not turn you down._

_Can you be so sure?_

_Arya, I am dragon, I can be sure about everything._

_Thank you Glaedr._

[EA][EA][EA][EA][EA]

As Arya spoke with Glaedr, Eragon moved about the eldunarí, placing his hand on each one giving them a few words, absorbing their memories. It had taken him a few years to wear down their distrust of him, but eventually each heart of heart of every dragon was willing to help him in his goal of training the new riders. Together he and the eldunarí worked on plans to draw each of the tortured eldunarí out from their depression.

He moved to the crazed eldunarí and blocked his mind, spending a lot of energy to protect himself, they had almost driven him insane with their madness the first time he tried this now he knew that he needed to protect himself. It was made difficult by the protection rendered upon the cave, but he persevered.

The part of his mind that he left unguarded slowly spread towards the wealth of eldunarí, projecting nothing but good thoughts and well wishes for their health and safety. He was sure that they knew they were safe here, but they didn't trust him, and nor could he blame them. They had been tortured and abused for so long that Eragon was amazed at the small progress they had made in the past few years. But he wouldn't give up on them. He had a special place in his heart for these dragons and he would never give up on them.

Withdrawing, he gave them his thanks and turned to see Arya holding Naegling in her hands, as she move about the room, looking at the dragons and every now and then looking at him. The smile she offered him was small and timid and he returned it. In this place, he only had love. Also there was a sense of a great weight coming off his shoulders. The elves that helped him move these here were sworn to secrecy under his rule, and were unable able to even speak of them, the knowledge was protected by Eragon's spells. He knew that Arya would keep this secret, take it to her grave.

He moved to stand by the dedicated eggs, their brilliance shining in the artificial light of the room. The open door was to his back and he watched as Arya walked around the room, wonder and amazement written on her face.

_Do we need to leave soon? _She asked in his mind. In this state of weariness imposed by the protection of the cave he loved the way the music of her mind was subdued but not silenced.

_No, we have as long as you like. When we're done here I'll take you to the sword room._

_That would be lovely, thank you._

_Why do you have Naegling?_

_Glaedr and I decided that Oromis would not like his store of energy, nor his sword, to be here where it is not useful._

_What are you to do with it? _

_Well, normally a sword would pass from father to son, so Glaedr thought that you should have it. You don't have your father's sword; you should have one from someone who love you as such._

Gratitude over swept him and he simply nodded. She withdrew from his mind and he leaned against the wall content just to watch her. He knew that she could never be his, and while that twisted the knife in his heart, he was slowly coming to terms with it. They were never meant to be, there was too much distance between them.

Eventually she made her way to him, still offering him the same small smile that warmed his heart. She handed him the sword and scabbard and they started their way up the stairs. It would take a while to climb up, and they made the journey in silence. Eragon marveled at the sword in his hands. He's pretty sure he knew how it came to him but he didn't know if he was wrong or right in his assumptions. It appeared one day on Grassboat Bluff, just the sword and the scabbard, no note or anything.

The situation told him that it may have been Murtagh and Thorn, but he couldn't be sure. He ran a myriad of spells over the sword to make sure its appearance wasn't the result of dark magic, but it hadn't. It was just the sword and he'd been grateful for it.

But then his thoughts turned to Arya, why was she suddenly smiling at him all the time? He could write it off as a product of being with the eldunarí, but it had happened before then. After she had spoken with Glaedr her smiled had turned on him, and he knew that he would always love her smile, even after he'd given her up, her smile would be able to illicit one of his own.

Finally the reached the top of the stairs and stepped out into the great hall, the door shutting itself behind them, sealing the entrance until the next time he needed to make the journey downwards. He didn't need to retrieve an egg at least for a year, when he would send each of his students back to their people with an unhatched egg. They would rotate through all four races of Alagaesia and hope for new riders, any eggs not finding their rider would be placed back into the Vault. The process would proceed again with new eggs depending on how many hatched in a few years time. He wanted to train up these riders, give them the skills and ability to train their own students.

Just as the drawer that held their swords opened, he placed Naegling in the drawer to better be able to tie Brisingr back to his hip but before he could pick up his own sword, Arya grabbed his hand and turned him so he was facing her. Confusion filled him as he looked into her impossibly green eyes. He felt his love for her filling him as they stared at each other. His hand in hers was warm and electricity was tingling from his hand to his brain, subtly reminding him that she was holding his hand and that she was not letting him go.

"I know what you said, about letting me go." She began, her voice calm and cool, her normally commanding tone present but at a much less level than normal. But there was something else there, too. "I don't want you to let me go Eragon."

He was still so confused. His heart picked up a staccato beat behind his ribs and suddenly his lungs were on fire, he wasn't sure he could remember how to breathe. "What do you mean?"

She took a step closer to him and grabbed his other hand. He could feel her breath on his cheek as he looked down at her. He was slightly taller than her now so he had to look down into her eyes. They were shining at him now. They were bathed in darkness still, the only light visible from the entrance to the Great Hall to their left.

"I want to try and be with you." She whispered.

So badly he wanted to believe her. She was here, in his arms, finally saying the words he wanted to hear, but he couldn't just give in. He couldn't just fall into her arms, and expect her to stick to what she said. Which was weird, because if the was one thing about Arya that was absolutely dependable, it was that she always meant what she said. She wouldn't play with him like this, of that he was absolutely sure, but still his mind was cautioning him not to follow her blindly.

"How do I know that this is real?" He choked out. His throat dry and warm in the wake of her uttered confession.

For an answer Arya brought her lips to his, using her hold of his hands to pull him to her. This kiss was different from the last one. It didn't start out chaste and move to something more passionate, it started with a frenzy he had never felt before. Her hands dropped his and suddenly his hands were on her back, holding her tightly to him as she deepened the kiss. A small moan escaped his lips as her fingernails scratched his scalp again.

Several minutes passed and the only thing that broke them apart was a mutual need for Oxygen. She didn't pull away from him, simply tucked her face against his neck, breathing deeply. He took this chance to fill his lungs with the pine scent of her and laid a small kiss on the crown of her head. He shivered as he felt her lips on his neck.

When he finally caught his breath, he whispered "You rejected me after the last time we kissed."

She sighed and kissed his neck again. "I know, and I am so sorry for that, I was afraid – no, I am afraid."

"Why?" He asked, kissing her temple.

"Because I wasn't sure that I could handle being with you but not having you." She sighed and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I was afraid that the distance between us would cause more problems, but we've been apart for thirty years and nothing came between us."

"You're absolutely sure?" He was embarrassed by the desperation in his voice, he needed to be sure. He need to know that she was sure.

"Yes, now kiss me." He did just that.


End file.
